CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(l\/lonographs) 


ICMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microraproduction*  /  Inttitut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiquaa 


1995 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  technique  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


\2 

D 

D 

D 
D 
Q 

D 

n 

D 
D 


n 


Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged  / 
Couverture  endommagee 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Couverture  restauree  et/ou  pelliculee 

Cover  title  missing  /  Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps  /  Cartes  geographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material  / 
Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 

Only  edition  available  / 
Seule  edition  disponible 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serrde  peut 
causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsion  le  long  de 
la  marge  interieure. 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have 
been  omitted  from  filming  /  II  se  peut  que  certaines 
pages  blanches  ajoutees  tors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  616  filmdes. 


Addttion£d  comments  / 
Commentaires  supplementaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilme  le  meilleur  examplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
ete  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire  qui  sont  peut-etre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifications  dans  la  meth- 
ode  normale  de  filmage  sont  indiques  ci-dessous. 

I     1      Coloured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

I     I      Pages  damaged  /  Pages  endommagees 

I     I      Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
' — '      Pages  restaurees  et/ou  pelliculees 

r^     Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
' — '      Pages  decolorees,  tachetees  ou  piquees 

I     I      Pages  detached  /  Pages  detachees 

r~|r     Showthrough ;  Transparence 


D 


Quality  of  print  varies  / 
Qualite  inegale  de  I'impression 


I     I      Includes  supplementary  material  / 

Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 

I  I  Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
' — '  slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image  /  Les  pages 
totalement  ou  partlellement  obscurcies  par  un 
feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure,  etc..  ont  ete  filmees 
a  nouveau  de  fagon  a  obtenir  la  meilleure 
image  possible. 

I  I  Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
' — '  discolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the 
best  possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant 
ayant  des  colorations  variables  ou  des  decol- 
orations sont  filmees  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la 
meilleur  image  possible. 


This  ittm  is  filmwj  at  th*  rsductton  ratio  chackad  balow/ 

Ce  documtnt  est  f  ilme  au  taux  de  reduction  indique  ci.de«sous 

lOX                                 14X                                 18X 

■ax 

2ex 

30X 

1 

J 

12X 

16X 

XX 

24  X 

28  X 

32  X 

Th»  copy  fil«n«d  h«r»  hai  bMO  raproduud  thank* 
10  th*  9«n«fO«ity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'Mamw-air*  filnti  tut  raproduit  gract  t  la 
gtntraaitt  da: 

Bibliothequ*  nationale  du  Canada 


Tha  imaga*  appaaring  hafa  ara  tha  bait  quality 
poaaibia  coniidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibillty 
of  tha  ehginal  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  apacificationa. 

Ongmal  copiaa  in  printad  papar  covara  ara  fllmad 
baginning  Mith  tha  from  covar  and  anding  on 
iha  laat  paga  with  *  priniad  or  illu.iraiad  impraa- 
sion.  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copiai  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
firat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illu.tratad  impraa- 
■ion.  and  anding  on  tha  l«»t  paga  with  a  pnniad 
or  illuatratad  imprauion. 


Tha  laat  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  aymool  —»■  Imaaning    CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  aymbol  ▼  Imaaning  ' 
whichavar  appliaa. 


■ENO"), 


Maps,  platas.  chart*,  ate.  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  a.posura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  cornar.  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  .'•";••" 
raquirad  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  at*  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  *oin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
do  la  nattata  da  I'aiamplaira  film*,  at  an 
eonfermiia  avac  laa  conditions  du  contra!  da 
tilmaga. 

Las  axamplaira*  originaux  dont  la  couvanura  an 
papiar  ast  imprimaa  sont  filmas  an  commancani 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  son  par  la 
darniara  paga  qui  compona  una  amprainia 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  cas.  Tous  las  autras  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  film**  an  commancani  par  la 
pramiara  paga  qui  compona  una  amprainta 
d'impraasion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darniira  paga  qui  comporta  una  talia 
amprainta. 

Un  da*  symbol**  suivants  spparaitra  sur  la 
darniara  imaga  da  ehaqua  microficha.  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  ^»  signifia  "A  SUIVRE".  la 
symbola  V  signifia  "FIN". 

Las  cartaa.  planchas.  tablaaux,  ate.  pauvant  atra 
tilmto  *  daa  taux  da  raduction  diffaranis. 
Lorsqua  la  documant  ast  trop  grand  pour  atra 
raproduit  an  un  saul  clich*.  il  act  film*  *  partir 
da  I'angla  supariaur  gaueha,  da  gaucha  *  droita. 
at  da  haul  an  baa.  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'imagas  n*cassaira.  Las  diagrammaa  suivants 
lllusirant  la  mdthoda. 


MldOCOrr   RESOLUTION    IISI   CHA«T 

(ANSI  end  ISO  TEST  CHART  No-  2) 


^     -APPLIED  irvMGE     In 


U609       USA 


tUf^^^^^fr-^y.  ■ 


•'^***-'^>'  ,...  ^j....,,  ,V*<^o-^*  ^4- 


1  JJAirini  auii  ^miyii 

J.  JR.  ^msii 


4.  A->i.;;:,^iJ^«Vvi*; 


iill'itnil;    iKlllMii)  (h,  Siy^iuT 

!ri;r  (Sartintn  TPrtaa 
I  1904 


nr4 


6.9  7^f) 


CopyrJuht  1^,4  by  J.  R.  Ntwiij 
AH  ri:  hit  resfrveJ 


PRINTED  AT 

THE  GORHAM   PRESS 

BOSTON,  U.  S.  A. 


dontpnta 


I 

i 


National  and  {latriutir 


Qt'EEN  Victoria            .... 

P»ge 

9 

Coronation    Ode          .... 

10 

To  THE  Dlke  and  Duchess  op  York 

14 

Count  Beauregard       ... 

15 

Flag  Selling  in  China 

16 

The  Two  Nations       .... 

17 

Mr.  J.  Bull:   His  Business 

18 

The  Power  of  Song    .... 

19 

Ireland's  Opportunity 

21 

Canad  ^N  Patriotic  Song 

21 

An   Apocalypse            .... 

24 

Hamon-goo         ..... 

25 

Vatma  on  tht  9outl|  Afriian  9Ia 

r 

Canada  to  Dufferin               ... 

31 

A  Ballad  of  the  War 

32 

Lines       ...... 

The   Conflict   ..... 

34 
35 

There  is  Nothing  Too  Good  for  the  Irish 

36 

Invocation          ..... 

37 

The  Return      ..... 

37 

Thanksgiving    ..... 

38 

^atttb  Mtlai^a 


Jehovah-jikeh  . 

Psalm  XXIII    . 

A   Prayek 

Spiritual  Indifference 

The  Anointing  of  the  King 

For  Thee  I  Pray 

Lenten  Hymn  . 

Advent    . 

The  World's  Christmas 

Christmas 

The  Redemption 


To  the  Marquis  of  Dufferin  and  Ava 
To  Mr.  M.  K.  Richardson,  M.P. 
Hail,  Brethren  of  the  Mystic  Rite 

MiZPAIi     . 

Parting 
To  Arthur 
To  Mv  Boy 
To  Miss  Graham 


Ekgiaf  l^ama 


In  Memo«y  of  the  Marquis  of  Dufferin  and  Ava 

lo  My  Daughter  Ethleen  . 

To  My  Son  Arthur    . 

Franklin  McLeay 

Frederick  Louis  D'Oer  Le  Pan 

Robert  Dunn  Biggar  . 

David  Mn.Ls,  K.C.,  LL.D.,  Justice'  of  the  Su 

PREME  Court  of  Canada 
Th':  Marquis  of  Salisbury  , 
Longfellow 
To  a  Gifted  Poet 
Miss  Edith  Richardson 


Pasa 
41 
42 
43 
44 
44 
45 
46 
47 
48 
49 
50 


57 
58 
60 
61 
62 
63 
64 
65 


69 
71 
76 
77 
79 
80 

81 
83 
84 
85 
86 


Ipatma  Qll^flg  Ugrital 


The  Shamrock 

As  Clings  the  Tree    . 

O  Thou,  to  Whom  My  Wishes  Flow 

Like  a  Dream  of  the  Night  . 

If  We  Should  Meet   . 

Oh.  Who  that  has  Known  . 

What   Sunshine 

0  Loved  and  Adored   . 

1  Roamed  Along  a  Dreary  Way 
Pardon,  My  Love,  an  Erring  One  . 
Far  Away  .... 
Waiting  .... 
Song  ..... 
Come  Back  from  the  Mistland 
My  Shamrock  .... 
Ballad     ..... 


P»ge 
89 
90 
90 
91 
92 
93 
94 
95 
96 
96 
97 


99 

100 
lOI 


MiBtsUaatBUB  ^aftne 


Major-General  Sir  Hector  Macdonald 

105 

Eventide            .... 

107 

Unappreciated  . 

108 

The  Church  in  the  West 

109 

Papa,  Come 

no 

Parental  Love 

III 

The  Baby  of  Our  Home 

III 

It  Might  Have  Been  . 

112 

A  Reverie 

114 

Advent 

"5 

A  Litany 

116 

A  Litany 

117 

I  Know  . 

117 

To  a  Beautiful  Woman 
Alone 

118 
118 

From   Horace    . 

119 

Insecurity 

121 

i: 


Dear  Me! 

Mathematical  . 

Bray  County    . 

Dear  Misther  Molony 

To  Charles 

What  the  Pug  was  Thinking 

och,  norah  avic 

I'm  Short  a  Letter 

To  the  Flat  Earth  Savants 

When  Daddy  Takes  the  Strap 


I2S 

«S 
126 
127 
128 
130 
131 
133 
134 
136 


i^ational  anb  ^atriottr 


m 


'-/ 


I 


^Mfpn  TSittaxia 

Bowed  down  with  grief  the  Nation  weeps, 
The  people  sorrow  o'er  their  Queen  — 
The  best,  the  noblest  earth  has  seen, 

A  name  which  mem'ry  loves  and  keeps. 

Since  David's  Royal  House  began. 
No  name  has  lived  on  history's  page 
So  glorious;  and  each  future  age 

Shall  hoard  it  as  a  talisman. 

God  save  the  Queen !  Alas !  we  sing 
Another  strain  than  that  today ; 
And  still  with  heart  and  soul  we  pray: 

God  save  the  King!    God  save  the  King! 

Yet  onr .  more,  as  the  solemn  scene 
Is  passing,  and  the  queenly  Dead 
Is  borne  from  view,  we  bow  the  head. 

And  weeping  pray :  God  save  the  Queen ! 


€aranation  (Sbs 

Written  for  Good  Words 
I 

When  from  Victoria's  hatid  the  sceptre  dropped, 
A  mighty  sorrow  seized  the  Nation's  hearti 

As  if  the  march  of  progress  had  been  stopped, 
And  peace  and  hope  had  said :  Let  us  depart ! 

But  Heaven  had  heard  the  Nation's  prayer  that 
she 

Might  leave  an  Heir  licr  greatness  to  succeed ; 
And  m  th'  Eternal  Councils  the  decree 

Was  issued  provident  for  time  of  need. 

And  from  that  glorious  Throne  which  symbols 
forth 

The  thrones,  dominions,  principalities 
In  heavenly  places,  kingly  truth  and  worth 

Breathe  benisons  o'er  continents  and  seas. 

Heaven  heard  the  Nation's  prayer,  and,  gracious 
still 
To  the  predestined  people,  gives  a  King 
Who  shall  the  Empire's  proudest  hopes  fulfill. 
When  peace  prevails,  or  war's  dread  echoes 
n.;g! 

Where  outer  ocean  washes  distant  shores 

«7u    ^""^^^  *^'™'^  ^"*'  ^°"^  remote  or  near 
Where  Britain's  opulence  its  largesse  pours, 
Dominion  grows  in  greatness  year  by  year. 

And  with  that  growth  a  loval  spirit  grows 

Exulting  as  an  eagle  on  the  wing  • 
And  wearers  of  the  Thistle,  Shamrock,  Rose, 

Repeat  the  British  cheer:  God  save  the  King! 


God  save  the  King  who  to  the  Throne  succeeds ; 
Ours  is  the  trust  of  threescore  years  passed 
o'er; 
Be  his  the  guerdon  of  immortal  deeds, 
Till  Britain's  realms  shall  stretch  from  shore 
to  shore! 

II 

Touch  but  the  farthest  points  which  mark 
The  Empire's  bounds  in  east  or  west, 

And  instant  as  th'  electric  spark, 
There  starts  a  tremor  of  unrest,  — 

A  tremor  which  pervades  the  whole. 

Where  tropic  suns  or  arctic  snows 
Are  as  the  passions  of  the  soul. 

Which  to  a  perfect  manhood  grows. 

Controlled  by  one  responsive  mind. 

Which  governs  continents  and  seas. 
Strong  hands  unfurl  to  every  wind 

A  flag  which  floats  on  every  breeze ; 

Beneath  whose  folds  no  tyrant  King, 

Nor  ruthless  people  find  abode ; 
But  freedom  folds  her  dewy  wing. 

And  nestles  at  the  feet  of  God! 

Ill 

"  Truth,  Morality,  Peace  " :  such  is  the  pledge 

of  the  King, 
Who  in  his  noble  ambition  ever  such  blessings 

would  bring, 
Wielding  the  sceptre  of  empire  over  a  mighty 

domain, 
Shadowing  earth  with  such  glory  as  monarchs 

have  sought  for  in  vain. 


I(  > 


Millions  of  hearts  are  expectant  waiting  the  con- 
quests of  Right 

Planned  in  the  reign  of  Another  —  now  in  a  halo 
of  light,  — 

Planned  in  a  Woman's  devotion  with  heart  of 
affection  and  truth. 

Lived  for  till  hands  had  grown  aged  redeeming 
the  pledges  of  youth. 

Bright   are    the    footprints   behind    her,   where 

Kings  of  her  Line  are  to  tread, 
And  he  who  is  throned  as  her  Heir  has  a  hope 

and  a  God  overhead,  — 
A  hope  and  a  God  to  uplift  him  to  heights  where 

no  monarch  e'er  stood 
In  the  waves  of  an  ultimate  glory,  which  beat  on 

the  Throne  like  a  flood. 

Predestined  of  old  o'er  the  nations  to  hold  the 

dominion  of  Migiit, 
Till  freedom  shall  shatter  the  fetters  which  bar 

the  dominion  of  Right, 
Till  Truth  and  Morality  flourish,  and  war  and 

its  tumults  shall  cease, 
And  the  dove,  with  the  olive-branch  hov'ring, 

shall  come  with  the  message  of  Peace. 

Honor,  and  glory,  and  might,  rest  on  the  head 

of  the  King, 
Peace  and  good  will  unto  men,  angels  in  unison 

sing; 
Long  may  he  live,  till  the  darkness  is  swallowed 

in  fulness  of  light, 
And   Law   shall   forever   have   triumphed,   and 

Right  be  the  standard  of  Might. 


r'aitli.  on  her  cagli'-plimicil  pinions,  is  soaring 

aloft  and  afar, 
Nations  are  looking  in  wonder,  and,  after  the 

tumult  of  war, 
Falls,  like  a  star  of  the  evening,  a  message  the 

angels  would  bring: 
Heaven's  best  gift  to  the  people  is  Truth  in  the 

heart  of  the  King. 


IV 

God  save  our  gracious  King, 
Let  all  the  lieople  sing, 

God   save  the   King ; 
By  aged  and  by  young, 
By  every  race  and  tongue. 
On  sea  and  land,  be  sung 

God  save  the  King. 

Let  his  broad  Empire  wake, 
Land,  ocean,  stream,  and  lake. 

As  swells  the  strain. 
Till  hate  and  discord  flee. 
And  truth  and  loyalty 
Shall  utter  far  and  free 

The  glad  refrain. 

God  save  the  King  who  reigns 
To  loose  the  captive's  chains. 

And  freedom  bring; 
Be  his  the  dauntless  mind. 
In  peace  and  war  to  find 
The  good  of  all  mankind ; 

God  save  the  King! 


I 


aia  tift  fiulu  anil  Siu1|mb  of  furk 

UUBING  THEIR   TOUR   OF   THE   DOMINION 

He   comes  — the   Hoir   of    Britain's   Throne  — 

To  our  Dominion  of  the  West, 
Where  peace  has  reigned,  and  wc.lth  has  grown. 

Beneath  the  flag  we  love  the  best ; 
.And  whatsoe'er  the  welcome  given 

In  other  lands,  our  own  shall  prove 
As  honest  as  the  light  of  heaven. 

As  ardent  as  the  flame  of  love. 
Though  guns  may  boom,  and  sabres  flash. 

And  streamers  float  on  cverv  breeze. 
And  serried  cavalcades  may  dash, 
^  Like  sunbeams  flecked  on  summer  seas ; 
Yet,  while  ten  thousand  voices  start 

The  echoes  with  their  glad  acclaim. 
The  silent  homage  of  the  heart 

Puts  all  the.se  outward  forms  to  shame. 

We  love  the   Ihrone  of  her  who  reigned 
For  threescore  years  o'er  land  and  sea. 
And  still  an  equal  sway  maintained 

'Twixt  Motherland  and  Colony. 
•And  like  the  Phoenix  from  the  dust, 
^  Her  gracious  Heir  ascends  the  Throne, 
Commanding  that  implicit  trust 

And  homage,  which  were  hers  alone. 
And  Thee,  the  Royal  Messenger 

Of  Royal  Sire,  whom  we  revere, 
We  hail  with  joy,  and  breathe  the  prayer 

That  Heaven  may  guard  thy  sojourn  here. 
To  Thee  and  Royal  Spouse  we  give 

The  best  we  have  of  truth  and  worth: 
May  ye  fulfill  our  hopes,  and  live 

Till  peace  shall  dominate  the  earth ! 


(Count  trourroorli 

Count  Beaureganl  was  a  rcfiigi'e  in  England, 
and  was  for  two  years  an  officer  of  the  Lancers, 
lie  joined  in  l8()4-  and  resigned  his  commission 
•1  1896.  Subsequently  he  went  out  to  Kimberlcy, 
.ind  joined  the  RmT  fones.  lie  fell  in  battle 
near  Pretoria. 

The  man   who   fnund  in  (la\s  );one  by 

A  refuge  and  a  home 
On  Mritisli  soil,  yet  dared  to  tly 

When    foes   were  seen   to  come  — 
Nay,  who  allied  himself  with  those. 

.And  fought  his  steadfast  friend. 
Deserved  to  die  with  Hritain's  foes, 

.And  meet  a  graceless  enil. 

Hut   Britain  still  shall  yield  a  home 

To  homeless   refugees 
F.xpellcd     mm  fatherland,  who  come 

In  haste  across  the  seas: 
.\nd   treachery   shall   still   repay 

The  kindness  liritain  shows: 
It  is  the  way  —  the  wicked  way  — 

Of  thankless,  treacherous  foes. 


15 


3fla9-1^lUai  in  (Slrina 

During  tlio  distiirhancis  in  I  liina  it  was  rc- 
ixirtcil  that  I£iiroi>cans  were  accustomed  to  sell 
their  national  flags  to  the  Chinese,  who  made  use 
of  them  for  ulterior  purposes.  The  Hritish  and 
American  flags  were  not  purcliasalile.  altlioiifrl, 
$3,000  was  offered  for  a  flag. 

Let  soldiers  of  anotlier  race 

Play  fast  and  loose  with  treason. 
Sell  flag  and  honor,  and  disgrace 

Their  nation,  name,  and  reason ; 
The  Stars  and  Stripes  and  Union  Jack 

Arc  not  for  sale  to  foenicn ; 
Conie  weal  come  woe,  come  blow  come  whack. 

Those  flags  are  bought  by  no  man. 

The  treacherous  Russ  and  hauty  Gaul 

May  shame  their  name  and  nation. 
May  sell  their  flag,  and  thus  forestall 

A  shameless  degradation; 
But  Saxon  honor  still  is  bright. 

And  faithful  to  tradition ; 
And  men  may  stand  or  fall  in  fight. 

The  flags  know  no  transition. 

From  flagstaff  and  from  masthead  high 

Fling  out  the  flags,  which  flutter 
Together  in  an  alien  skv, 

When  war's  dread  thunders  mutter; 
The  Imperial  Race  must  take  the  field. 

And  stand  or  fall  together; 
But  never  never  shall  they  viild 

To  brook  a  foeman's  tether. 

O'er^  upland  crag,  o'er  marsh  and  mead, 
Oer  ocean's  heaving  bosom, 

16 


They  K"  t<i  siiw  th'  iiii|iiTi:il  swd. 

VVliich  vet  sliall  Inid  and  blossom, 
L'ntil  the  earth  be  filled  willi  friiit 

Of  noble  aspirations. 
And  freedom,  peace,  and  hope  refute 

The  (loRtiias  of  the  nations. 


JLifi  mma  Natimu 

The  days  shall  come  when  the  U"iciii  Jack 

And  the  Stars  and  Stripes  shall  be  me 
In  a  bond  of  peace,  for  the  world's  release 

From  the  sway  of  the  sword  and  gun. 
In  that  day  the  chosen  R;  cc  shall  rule. 

As   foretold  by  seers  divine ; 
.\nd  the  scattered  flock  of  a  kindred  stock 

In  a  league  of  peace  shall  join. 

A  fulness  of  nations  shall  one  branch  b--. 

The  othe.'  a  nation  of  niight. 
In  the  day  when  the  Lord  shall  fulfill  His     ord 

And  the  twain  in  a  '  oiid  unit" ; 
Then  shall  mankind  fear  no  iron  rod 

In  the  hand  of  tyranny ; 
For  the  earth  shall  be  filled  with  the  knowledge 
of  God. 

As  the  waters  cover  the  sea ! 

"  'Tis  a  dream, "  say  they,  the  blinded  ones. 

"A  vision  —  a  phaiita.sy  ;  " 
But  God's  own  ways  in  the  latter  days 

Shall  cause  the  blind  to  see ; 
Till  the  earth  itself  shall  awake  in  joy 

For  the  Nations'  triumph  won. 
And  the  tribes  of  earth  shall  publish  forth 

What  Israel's  God  hath  done! 


»7 


«r.  3.  Bull:    ma  tuamiBa 

.ln5^rs];?r^'^^'i^^^;f'^>7y  in  trade, 
plaved.  ^  Gun-,s  forever  dis- 

AIl  painted  in  Red,  White  and  RI„„      i  •  ■ 

fade  —  "^'  ^^'"'^''  won't 

Tis  the  (irni  of  one  Mr,  J.  null. 

i-Jt  the  bnsmes,slikc  Mr,  J.  Bull 

For  he  wants  it.  does  Mr.  J.  n„ii 

If  you  liave  not  the  cash    ui„. 

do,  ■  ''''•'■  ^  I'ortgag-e  will 

His  dealings  in  real  estate  are  a  few  ■ 
Hes  a  lover  of  land,  but  has  also  h,'  view 
Ocean  trade,  the  same  Mr.  J,  Bull 

S*;^:en'':^:''Bfcr  ""^-*esun, 

I5"t   they'd    rather   selLh    "T  ^'  ^  ^"" ' 

chasinjf  'me_'"   ''"*'^'   ^^''^"   >""><"   P»r- 

•■Vo„„,ay  need  then,,'-  sa>..  .\|,,  J.  Bull. 


i8 


So  come  to  tlic  great  dopartmentals  of  trade : 
The  Big  Gun  is  the  sign,  and  is  always  displayed, 
."Ml  painted  in  Red,  White,  and  Blue,  which  won't 
fade; 
He  leads,  does  this  Mr.  J.  Bull. 

X.  B.  — 
But  if  you  should  chance  to  step  over  the  way, 
.And   trade   with   a   rival  —  now,   mind   what   I 

say  — 
Perhaps  the  Big  Gun  may  be  brought  into  play  — 
"  'Tis  my  way,  sir!  "  says  Mr.  J.  Bull. 

(Biie  Pomrr  nf  ^mig 

AN    I.N'CIDENT   OF   THE    '  SITISII    COURT 

The  Court  was  hushed,  and  every  eye  was  bent 

upon  the  Queen, 
Whose  face  was  womanly  and  kind,  and  all  her 

looks  serene : 
■'  Bring  forth  the  singer ;  "  she  was  brought,  and 

in  that  Presence  stood, 
.\  daughter  of  the  Celtic  race,  bright,  beautiful, 

and  good. 

"  Sing  one  of  Erin's  sad  sweet  songs,"  the  good 

Queen  kindly  said : 
And  then  the  singer  paused  to  think,  and  bowed 

her  graceful  head ; 
She  thought  of  Erin's  ancient  fame,  when  kings 

of  native  birth 
Rode  proudly  forth  in  royal  state,  the  noblest  of 

the  earth. 


19 


Slie   thought  of  prelate   and   of   priest,   whose 

guidance  had  been  sought 
By  foreign  lands,  when  Erin  shone  as  earth's 

most  sacred  spot; 
She  thought  of  minstrel   and   of  bard,   whose 

melody  and  songs 
Had  waked  of  old  the  hills  and  dales,  as  with  a 

thousand  tongues. 

But,  no!  she  must  not  sing  of  those -they  all 

had  passed  away  — 
The  throne,  th    learning,  and  the  song,  were  of 

a  bvgone  dav: 
Where   glory   sli'one,   and   learning   ruled,   and 

song  was  heard  erstwhile 

&cred"  Wer"'"""'  '"''  ^"'^  ^'"^^"^  ""^ 

And  so  the  singer  raised  her  head  and  sang  of 
t-rm  s  grief,  ° 

°^   relief- '"''  "''"'"''  "^^"  ''"^'''  ^  '=°'''''2'  °f 

She  sang  of  men  and  women  bound  and  thrown 

in  dungeon  mean, 
Or  hanged  like  dogs  throughout  the  land   for 

wearing  of  the  Green ! 

^"■^of  Fn^lfJJ^'J^"'  ^'""''^  '°"=''^d  'he  heart 
England  s  Queen, 

h^d'heen'"^'"  *'  '"'"  '""''^  °^  ^"  *^'  °"=^ 

^"^:aL€So[veT'' '''  ^°"^'  ™-  ^-*  *^ 

And  queenly  dignity  bowed  down  before  a  na- 
lion  s  Liod. 


And  from  that  moment  Erin  felt  a  sense  of 
better  things, 

As  queenly  power  has  striv'n  to  right  the  wrongs 
of  England's  Kings ; 

And  Erin's  sons  have  found  a  friend  m  Eng- 
land's gracious  Queen ; 

Xone  dare  to  wrong  or  vex  them  now  for  wear- 
ing of  the  Green. 

Ah !  little  thouglit  the  fair  young  girl  who  sang 

the  mournful  song 
How  far  the  influence  would  reach  to  right  a 

cruel  wrong: 
But  stronger  than  the  patriot's  words  m  senate 

hall,  is  seen 
The  gentle  power  of  that  sad  song,  which  won 

Britannia's  Queen ! 


Srrianft'a  ©pportmutg 

Oh,  they  tell  me  that  the  Irish  are  once  more 
allowed  to  live. 

And  that  enemies  of  olden  time  must  pardon  and 
forgive ; 

And  they  tell  me  that  we've  freedom  m  old 
Ireland  to  be  seen 

Without  threat  of  jail  or  gallows  for  the  wear- 
ing of  the  Green. 

.Vnd  they  t^..  me  that  the  Shamrock  shall  hence- 
forth be  worn  by  those 

Who  have  trod  it  down  disdainfully,  poor  Ire- 
land's cruel  foes  ■ 

Well.  God  be  praised  that  happier  days  for  Ire- 
land shall  be  seen. 

When  her  children  shall  not  suffer  for  the  wear- 
ing of  the  Green. 


11, 


°  ^S:Z^'"''  "-  '-'-"i  is  a  placo 
''"'ft5:eT''"'^^''^°''^"-""-ven  pardon  and 
'":a?,":^r,e^r"'^^-^'"^-^thedav. 

°"nKe:r '"  ^-'-'l  "ow  the  wearing 

^)^:n^:^^.:!:^°'^>^an„e..H,c„in 

o-eTt  1;:-"  '"  ^™-  «--.  proud,. 

;^;;:ll^/Sft:e^,-'^-andon.e«a.- 

i^of^S:?°e^V'^-"-«^"-He,vea. 

®a«aJ«an  fatriatit  »onn 

We  are  the  sons  of  Empire 

vfa-nSce 

Otr"bro;r"  Nationhood: 

^AndV'''  ^''•■"''  °f  Empire. 
And  ours  it  is  to  chini 

The  broadest  rights  of  dtizens 
ours  on  land  and  sea. 


Well  figlil  for  the  right 

In  the  struggle  of  the  free. 
In  the  combat  for  our  heritage, 

.'\nd  the  Empire  of  the  free. 

We  are  the  men  of  Empire 

By  right  of  brawn  and  brain ; 
Our  sires  made  Britain  what  she  is. 

And  what  we  shall  maintain. 
Where  Britain's  arms  and  commerce  go. 

There  fearlessly  go  wc. 
To  fight  for  the  right 

In  the  cause  of  liberty. 
For  the  honor  of  the  British  Race. 

And  the  Empire  of  the  free. 

Then  here's  to  our  Dominion, 

And  here's  to  those  who've  died. 
And  here's  to  those  who  battle  on 

For  Britain's  power  and  pride! 
The  billows  of  the  mighty  deep 

Are  not  more  proud  than  we. 
As  we  fight  for  the  right 

In  the  contest  of  the  free. 
In  the  combat  for  the  British  name, 

And  the  Empire  of  the  free! 


'i 


A«  ApatalypBt 


sLi",o°rth"^-  '"''   --  ^^"-t.y  the 
"""trulSi,.^"^^'"^   '-<'-•   "-■"''ers   far 

"^uJt&/ffi-^-''-'^foraba„. 

' :^n^^e':L"U:?r^°"  ^"--)  ^v'-  Shan 

^r^^^S^^  "'^  --P-  ^o^  the  ,ast 

X''£h°'^"'''^='->'-'^-thehattle-s 

''^"  SicTXath'r^''"^  -'^°-  ^'-„  the 

And  rethinks  I  see  a  people  puissant  and  r.adv 

^^Sc,;^;S,t:^,r;-/'--pt.ofaworM 
And  above  the  wrprt  ^f  ^„         ■ 
^.  ^don,s,  cru^blTthrler"  ^'^""^^^^  ^■'■"^- 
rotr4:^"^°''"-P'^P-in.  earth's 


'4 


Then   a    Banner,    war-becrimsoned,    which    has 

waved  a  thousand  years 
Over  flood  and  field  victorious,  in  a  cloud  of 

light  appears; 
Banner  of  a  mighty  People,  ensign  of  a  Race 

divine, 
God-ordained  to  lead  in  freedom  where  the  Cross 

shall  be  the  sign. 

Swords  to  plowshares  now  are  beaten,  war's 
dread  thunders  peal  no  more, 

Peace  and  plenty  fill  the  nations,  gladness  reigns 
from  shore  to  shore, 

Hope  looks  upward  to  the  mountains,  sees  the 
triumphs  yet  to  be, 

Hears  the  paean  of  the  ages:  Heav'n  has  tri- 
umphed —  man  is  free ! 

ifanmm-gog 

Wails  o'er  the  misty  Atlantic  re-echoing  o'er  the 

Pacific, 
Wails  as   from   nation   in   anguish   who   dread 

what  may  happen  tomorrow, 
Fill  earth  and  sky  with  their  dissonance,  moan- 
ing like  winds  of  November, 
When  Nature  dismantles  the  forest  in  lonely  and 

wide  desolation. 
Rosh  with  his  cohorts  of  thousands  is  gathering 

strength  for  the  conflict ; 
Riders  and  horses  caparisoned,  ready  to  rush  to 

the  onset. 
Wait  for  the  call  of  the  trumpet  to  sound  the 

advance  to  the  battle; 
And  with  him  are  leagued  for  the  struggle  the 

sons  of  the  alien  and  stranger. 


25 


N'limerous.  eager,  and  swift,  like  locusts  wliicli 

eat  up  the  harvest. 
Rosh,  the  predestined  of  nations,  foreseen  in  the 

visions  of  prophets. 
Marshals  the  hosts  of  the  mighty  ones  gathering 

fast  from  the  North  Land, 
Nation  with  nation  uniting,  which  once  were  at 

variance  and  hostile, 
("oming  like  brothers  to  brothers,  who  once  wen- 
estranged  from  each  other. 
Gather  there  now  from  the  Westward  tlie  ships 

from  the  regions  of  Tarshish. 
.Ships  from  the  Isles  of  the  West,  where  (iod 

from  of  old  made  jirovision. 
Plowing  the  billows  which  foam  with  a  [jresage 

of  battle  and  ruin  — 
Ruin  more  awful  and  dire  than  ages  and  ages 

of  slaughter. 

Woe  unto  Rosh  and  the  hordes  o(  the  alien  and 

stranger  accursed ! 
Woe  unto  those  who  profane  tlie  Land  of  a  hoh- 

remembrance ! 
Now   shall    the   vengeance,    restrained    through 

ages  of  wickcfl  presumption, 
r.urst  in  a  tempest  of  brimstone  and  hail   from 

the  hand  of  Jehovah! 
Wails  from  the  tempest-tossed  ocean,  and  deso- 
late cries  on  the  mainland. 
Groans  of  the  nations  in  anguish,  who  shrink 

with  the  dread  of  the  morrow. 
Fill  earth  and  sky  with  their  dissonance,  harsh 

as  the  loud  lamentations. 
When  cruel  Tisiphone  scourges  the  souls  in  Tar- 

taroan  bondage. 


26 


-—-4 


Night  settles  iJuwii  and  o'ersliado«<  the  face  ni 

the  mainland  and  ucean. 
N'inht  the  most  awful  since  God  in  His  wrath 

smote  the  first-born  of  Egypt : 
Darkness  and  dread  brood  in  concert  o'er  moun- 
tain and  valley  where  silence 
In  whispering  shadows  rehearses  the  fate  of  the 

horse  and  the  rider. 
Mlackness  of  darkness  comes  down,  and  the  hot 

wave?  of  vapor  ascending 
Stifle   the    war-weary   soldier,    who   curses   the 

struggle  for  conquest. 
Curses  the  hopes  of  ambition,  which  challenge 

the  anger  of  Heaven  : 
Then,  grasping  his   sword,   leaps   in   frenzy   to 

grapple  with  dangers  impending. 

Hark !  loudly  a  bugle  is  calling  —  the  noise  of 
an  army  advancing 

Is  heard  from  the  \Vcstward.  and  nearer  re- 
sounds the  approaching  of  horsemen ; 

Bugle  now  answers  to  bugle,  and  tuiinilt  is  an- 
swering to  tumult, 

Awful  and  dread  as  when  earthquakes  are  rend- 
ing the  rocks  and  the  mountains ! 

Suddenly  flames  in  the  darkness  a  flash  as  if 
thousands  of  lightnings 

Blended  in  one  dread  convulsion  were  hurled 
from  the  hand  of  Jehovah : 

Then  for  a  moment  the  silence  of  destiny  hangs 
in  the  darkness  — 


When  instant  and   dreadful,   o'erwhielming  the 

horse  and  the  rider,  the  fury 
Of  Heav'n  in  hot  thunderbolts  falls,  as  when. 

rent  from  the  brow  of  the  mountain. 


!^^^^ar  aUZ&--  "-^-  "•^'-  "P  the 
;^^evr!:^^^^-4f--a.eas... 
"^erllrwr.hrva',?;^'"-"--  -e.b. 

7  ?pSef  „o':td:5'^''  ^^-  '-^  P-  Had 

;r^^^^i^°-H°s'--^-o.d.aso. 

3^rn-?— ,--„hashea.h. 


28 


PoptttB  on  tl|p  i^uutii  Afrirmt 
liar 


(Canolia  ti>  Buflrrin 

AN   ELEl.V  D.N   I.OK1I  A\  \.  WHO  I  I-.1.1,  IN   AN   A(  TIoN 
AT    I.MlYSMITll. 

■•  t'l.AMiKiioYi:.  Ikki.am).  Marrli  8.  ic)on. 
•  .Uv  ''■•<"■  Ur.  Xmi-ll:  Sniiif  kind  frirnd 
has  sent  nii-  tlii'  toncliin);  vitsos  y.m  liavo  written 
in  ri-feronci-  tn  tlio  ilcatli  of  nnr  |)<H)r  Ixiy.  and 
l.adv  Duffcrin  lias  iK-RK^'d  "»■•  to  express  to  yon 
her  deepest  Kratitnde.  which  I  do  hoth  in  tier 
name  and  in  my  own.  for  lia'  iiiK  paid  ■..>  tender 
and  generous  a  tribute  to  his  uuinorv.  N'or  are 
we  less  sensible  of  the  friendlv  >]iirit  towards 
imrselves  which  breathes  throiij;h  your  iK^antiful 
|)oem.     Hclieve  me. 

"  Yours  sincerely. 

•■  Dll  TKUIN    AND  AVA." 

The  man  whose  name  stands  hiKlicst  '"  '•>'  i'^" 

teem 

Of  those  o'er  whom  he  ruled  in  days  gone  by 

Is  not  fortjotteii.  now  that  death'-  ■'..rk  stream 

Hath   quenched   the   hopes   which   once  burnt 

proud  and  hi(;h- 

Ah!  who  shall  say  how  nuicli  the  father 
thoufjht  — 

How  oft  the  mother  prayed  as  days  sped  on, 
.And  boyhood  from  that  loftier  manhood  caught 

The  fire  Promethean  pas-sed  from  sire  to  son 

.\nd  when  at  length  the  cry  "To  arms!"  was 
heard. 
And  valiant  dee<ls  sticceedeil  boasting  words. 


3' 


part  against  unequal  liordes 
revere.  "   '""^t"   wliom    we 

A  Sallad  nf  %  IBnt 

'"  tSr'  ''^'  ^■"'^'--  '-•^-ecords  of 
'"on  yndl^^l^  ""'^'^'^  -"ich  have  been 

"  '^S"wi^g^  P""''^'-^-  -d  the  message 
"^  mor7b"t:'°"'  '"^^  ^"'°-  ^hall  for  ever- 

""^   W^toofTtr/'  "^^"■"^^'   -'--  "'^ 

,/d'ow'n^ptThrfo^  ^"   -^'-■^"^   -ept 
We  are  looking —  the  nrn„H  „ 

,^  vvho  fought  that  day  -     '^'°^'"^  °^  "'"^^ 

We  are   Norman.  Celt    pn^   c 
want  the  world  to  kniw        ^'''°"'  *"''  ^« 

"""^  faTer'tr  '"'  '°  ^^'"'^-■■'-  ^^-e  on  a 
^dlsfcrfilHl''^  °^  "^"^'^'^  G-  almost 
Ja%hrtrdi?m:/^^"-*"^'-edthe 

a'dvtV;?ZlS""^^^"-'^'--''^^- 
32 


I 

I   . 

I 


We  are  looking  back  to  Hawkins,  and  to  Drake 
and  Frobisher, 
When  the  ir.-htv  fleet  came  northward  from 
the  hc-'ii  ahnreb  r^f  Spain; 
And  we  se  =n  to  hea-  th>    timuh,  that  surchareed 
the  tr>  uii'i  (1  air,  " 

When   Ert,.;!.   nvjjhi   spread   havoc   and   de- 
struction o'er  the  main. 

We  are  looking  back  to  Nelson  at  the  Nile  and 
Trafalgar. 
To  Wellington  at  Waterloo,  to  Havclock  and 
to  Clyde; 
And  vye  feel  our  hearts  beat  faster,  as  the  tumult 
of  the  war 
Brings  to  mem'ry  glorious  actions  of  our  sires 
who  fought  and  died. 

We   are    looking   on    th'   achievements   of   our 
heroes  of  today. 
Who  in  Egypt  and  in  Africa  have  won  a  last- 
mg  peace: 
They   shall   shine   on   historv's   pages,   like   the 
sun's  meridian  ray, 
As  the  men  who  broke  the   fetters,  and  to 
captives  gave  release. 

And  despite  the  jealous  nations,  we  are  strivine 
day  by  day 
That  our  flag  ma\-  wave  in  freedom  from  the 
flagstaflf  and  the  mast. 
And  that  British  arms  shall  triumph,  as  in  thick- 
est of  the  fray 
We  shall   rally   round   the   standard,   and   be 
Britons  to  the  last ! 


a 


Throughout  tiie  Img  dull  night  the  bivouac  fires 
Gleam  fitfully,  while  men  in  ambush  creep 

From  rock  to  crevice,  as  the  foe  retires 
As  stealthily  beyontl  where  sentries  Ueep 

Their  nightly  virgils,  and  the  long  watch  tires 
The  wearx'  eye  forbidden  now  to  sleep 

While  the  deep  silence  reigns,  so  soon  to  vield 

To  storm  and  tumult  over  camp  and  field.  ' 

Ami  while  in  homes  afar  beyond  the  sea 

The   mothers,   wives,   and   sweethearts   of  the 
brave 

Lift  holy  hands  to   Heaven  imploringly. 

That   lie.  who  notes  llie   sparrow's   fall,  mav 
save 

Kach  cherished  one:  yet    liritons  nui.st  be   free. 
.\nd  I'"reedom's  price  is  havoc  and  the  grave; 

.Vnd  many  a  heart,  with  hope  now  beating  fast. 

Shall  rot  in  foreign  wilds  when  all  is  ])astl 

^'et  from  that  soil  sli.ill  spring  in  after  \cars 
.A.  harvest  of  requital,  such  as  brings  ' 

Joy  to  the  reapers,  when  the  mist  of  tears 
Has  passed  away  forever  on  the  w'ings 

Of  fluttering  darkness,  and  a  day  appears 
Of  ceaseless  progress,  which  imaginings 

Could  never  dream  of,  telling  of  release 

.\nd  boundless  empire,  and  a  world  at  peace. 


34 


tBl^t  (Sonflirt 

Tliunder  of  Runs  on  the  mair.laml. 

Trooping  of  ships  on  the  sea. 
Hissing  of  shot  and  screaming  of  slicll  — 

What  may  this  tumult  be  ? 
Look!  from  the  Xorth  and  the  South. 

See !  from  the  East  and  the  West. 
.\n  Empire's  sons  from  ever_\  cHmc 

.\re  touched  by  a  strange  unrest  1 

Thimder  of  guns  on  the  mainland. 

Speeding  of  ships  from  far. 
.Sons  of  the  Empire.  East  and  West. 

Are  one  in  the  strife  of  war; 
East  and  West  in  the  strife  are  thc> . 

One  in  the  contest  joined ; 
While  the  lagging  world  looks  after  them 

From  the  lowlands  far  behind. 


N 


Thunder  of  guns  on  the  mainland. 

Trooping  of  ships  at  sea. 
Hissing  of  shot  and  screaming  of  shell. 

Boom  out  the  century. 
East  and  West  are  one  in  the  strife. 

When  the  war-drum  beats  alarms; 
And  an  Empire's  sons,  from  every  clime. 

Shall  meet  the  world  in  arms ! 


35 


<5iFW  ia  Hn«,i«g  tan  (Saab  for  %  SriaJi 

There^is  nothing  too  good  for  the  Irish  these 
When^war  is  the  pasti.ne,  and  all  the  world's 

They  are  afoTa°,  ec,  T:  ,"; '""Z''^*''-'""  ^'""'-'. 
That  the..  4!h^^-'^t^->--.,oes 

And^the^Queen   (Heaven  bless  her!)   reviewing 
Has  .en,  though  the  English  have  garter  and 

"^  Ancf  are"^,'"'  ""'"'"^f  ^^ht  better  by  far 
And  are  always  and  everywhere  Ir'sh 

.tr'^loverthrn'','''V'."''''^'\°^  ^""  "^  °W- 
rs  worn  on  the  breast  of  L'  °^  ^''^^^  ^"^^  SM, 
For  thcrp'J  n„fi  •  '"'^  warrior  bold  ; 

there  s  nothing  too  good  for  the  Irish 

"'"''shanfl;"^"^'^^^'^-"^--  the  flagstaff 


36 


MnbatsUati 


4 


O  God  of  Battles,  in  whose  sight 
D  /"f  "="'ons  wield  the  civil  sword 
Behold  our  need,  and  in  Thy  might  ' 

Sustain  and  strengthen  us,  O  Lord' 
Bid  vvars  and  tumults  cease,  we  pray' 
tjive  joy  and  gladness  in  our  day.         ' 

Our  cause  is  holy:  we  have  sought 
To  strike  the  chains  from  hands  and  feef 

The  nations  of  a  grosser  thought 
in  hostile  consultations  meet  • 

We  ask  no  favor  in  the  fight  •' 

We  only  pray,  God  speed  the  right ! 

Out  of  this  chaos,  dark  and  rude 

May  a  united  nation  rise. 
Triumphant  over  feuds  of  blootl 

And  bound  together  by  the  ties 

ThV^^J"'-''"'!:''?"'^-.''''""'"'^  P'-^g'-'^^-'^  "-ears 
1  he  fabric  of  the  circling  years. 


5»J?p  Sptoirn 


Victorious  from  afar  they  come  — 

Their  country's  hope,  the  nation's  shield, 
1  he  sons  of  Canada  come  home 

From  bivouac  ami  battlefield 
'^™^"'h''e  the  Empire's  annals  tell 

Of  Roberts  and  of  Wellington 
The  fame  our  heroes  won  so  well 

Shall  still  live  on  — shall  still  live  on 
In  solemn  gloom  the  cypress  waves 

Her  sombre  boughs  in  memory 


37 


Of  those  who  sleep  in  nameless  graves  ■ 
A  glorious  band  —  beyond  the  sea. 

But  where  they  fell  that  tyranny 
Might  yield  to  right  or  banishment. 

A  nation's  progress  hence  shall  be 
Their  everlasting  monument. 


(ElfankBgiDing 


vni' 


ir> 


"  We  praise  Thfc,  O  GliiI  : 
be  the  Lord,  ' 


wc  acknowledge  Thee  to 


We  thank  Thee.  Lord  of  earth  and  heaven. 
For  all  the  mercies  Thou  has  given. 
For  power  and  strength  to  sword  and  shield. 
For  triumph  on  the  foughtcn  field. 

Sometime  the  foe  prevailed,  and  then 
A  tremor  shook  the  hearts  of  men. 
As  if,  in  danger's  troubled  day, 
'l"h>-  face  in  wrath  had  turned  awav. 

But  we  behold  Thy  truth  and  grace 
Vouchsafed  to  us  in  evcrv  place: 
In  council  aiul  in  war,  Tliv  might 
Hath  been  i  ur  stay  by  day  and  night. 

We  offer  fullest  praise  to  Thee. 

Who  ruitst   j-er  land  and  sea. 

For  victory  in  battle  gained. 

For  wrong  reproved,  for  right  maintained. 

And  ever  as  the  ages  run 

Beneath  the  circuit  of  the  sun. 

Be  thanks  returned,  from  coast  to  coast. 

To  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 


38 


Bntrth  MtiahitB 


I 


iii 


upon  the  mount  Jehovah  chose, 

Where  Abraham  should  slay  hisson. 
fn  after  days  a  Temple  rose 

Of  gold,  and  gems,  and  precious  stone, 
A  glorious  House,  where  once  again 

Truth.  Honor,  Virtue  paid  the  price 
Of  Fortitude,  and  taught  us  men 

True  manhood  stands  in  sacrifice. 

And  we  as  builders,  taught  to  found 

The  edifice  of  character. 
Do  build  on  sacrificial  ground, 

And  day  by  day  the  fabric  rear. 
Which  grows  unto  a  holy  fane, 

A  temple  of  divine  abode. 
Wherein  is  manifest  again 

The  cloud-girt  ra(lianc\'  of  God. 


41 


yaolm  XXiil 

Thr  Lord  my  Shiplurcl  is,  .iinl  lit. 
X^ainst  every  want  sustaincth  me; 
He  caiiscth  nif,  « lu„  sore  oppressed. 
In  pastures  ijrceii  to  take  my  rest. 

Hesidc  still  waters  lie  doth  gnide. 
.\nd  for  my  soid  [K.  (l„,|i  provide 
l-or  Mis  .V.iMu-s  sal«'  I  onward  press. 
Still  led  Ml  paths  ,,f  riRhteoiisness. 

Via,  ihoii;;!,  I  „.^||,  j„  ,|^..j,h.j,  ^^^1^,  ^.|^j|, 
I  hrongh  slia.lows.   I   will  fear  no  ill  • 
(•or  Thon  art  with  me.  and  Thv  rod 
And  staff  shall  ,f,nifcirt  me,  ()  God. 

Thon  .spread'sl  a  talde  with  supplies 
In  pre.sonce  of  mine  enemies  — 
I'pon  tiiy  head  the  oil  dost  pour. 
And  still  my  cup  is  nmninfj  o'er. 

Oh    .s;ri:y  goodness  coa.sclesslv 
.\nd  mercy  still  shall  follow  me. 
And  to  Thy  house  I  shall  repair, 
.\nd  dwell  secure  for  ever  there. 


4i! 


II'  ll)f>-'  ( 


A  Prajirr 

Umni.N    lll.KIM,     IIIK    ,,n|      |.\M|vi 

O  C.kI  ,,f  Israel,  hear. 
Who  in  the  dnvs  o!  nld, 
<  >fl  taiiKin  'I'liv  rlioscii  race  Ki  t. 
Thy  jiiilfimciMs  manifold. 


Ill  hold  our  jjri'at  distriss. 
I  hi-  cold,  .mil  wanl.  and  woe  ; 
And  iu'lp  us.  Lord  of  rigfhtoo\isncss. 
.\nd  kindly  iinTcy  show. 

\\y  arc  a  rclicl  nic-r. 
Who  to  oiir.silves  uonid  live  : 
iini  Thon  art  lull  of  love  .-Mid  i,rr;ici-, 
IX-lifjhtinK  lo  forgive. 

W  hcnci'  \M'  havf  goni'  asira\ 
Recall  n>  in  Thy  love  ; 
Wliere  we  have  erred',  let  mercy  stay 
rile  wrath  which  would  reprove. 

(111!   mitigate  the  woe 
Which  rests  upon  the  land. 
Fenipcr  the  \vintr>-  winds  which  blow 
Alone  at  Thy  command. 

And  to  Thy  holy  N'ame 
May  all  our  thank.s  be  given. 
Till  we  Thy  praises  .shall  acclaim 
With  the  redeemed  in  heaven. 


43 


^trttual  ^MJiiffmnrr 

How  lifcliss  siinis  ihr  Chnrcli  today 
In  love,  in  warmth,  in  I'cllowsliii)  ■ 

The  prayers  we  breathe,  the  creeds  we  sav 
Seem  efforts  only  of  the  lip ; 

riie  Apostolic  jjlow  is  gone. 

The  aurora  of  the  early  dawn. 

And  though  the  love  he  manifest 

VVhich  clothes  the  naked.  fee.Is  the  poor; 
And  all  the  sons  of  want  are  blest. 
/^\  m<-'rc\  speeds  from  door  to  door 
1  he  lovi',  M  Inch  much  to  man  has  mvcn 
Is  cold  m  thonghts  of  God  and  heaven.  ' 

The  Church's  life,  the  Spirit's  fire 
Is  wan  and  cheerless,  as  todav 

We  struggle  heavcnw.nrd.  and  .aspire 

In  prayers  we  breathe,  in  creeds  we  sav  • 
■ewadmg  what  we  feel  is  lost, 

We  wait  another   Pentecost. 

^ife  AnnfnJlna  nf  tijf  King 

It  had  been  reported  that  unction  would  be 
dispensed  with  at  the  Coronation  of  Edward  VII. 

What !  shall  not  holy  oil  be  poured 

Upon  our  gracious  King? 
And  shall  the  imction  of  the  Lord 

Be  deemed  a  paltry  thing? 

And  shall  the  page  of  history 

The  solemn  truth  record 
That  he  was  not  raised  up  to  be 

Th'  Anointed  of  the  Lord? 


44 


No  floul.t  mans  wisdom  makes  it  „|.u„ 

In  this  great  ago  of  light,  ' 

lltat  without  Gel  a  King  may  reign, 
An<l  princes  rule  aright. 

Hut  lie  who  sits  enthroned  on  high 

Miall  laugh  at  the  design 
Of  puny  man  to  break  the  tie 
Twixt  human  and  Oivine. 

Uhich  would  1  In  presence  shun, 
i'till  let  riiy  will  be  done. 

For  thee  1  pray  whene'er  I  kneel 

before  th'  Eternal    Ihrone. 
While  every  word  and  wish  appeal 

for  good  to  thee  alone. 

And  when  I  to  the  aha;  go 

And  make  oblations  there. 
The  Sacrifice  I  plead,  and  know 

I  liat  Cod  will  answer  prayer. 

Oh   wanderer  in  a  .Irearv  land. 
Where  barren  scenes  abound 
•™iH-r,  heaven  is  still  at  hand, 
nl  there  is  hallowed  ground. 

Beyond  the  vale  of  time  behold 

The  brightness  which  appears. 
Where  .streets  are  paved  with  shining  gold 

And  there  are  no  more  tears. 


45 


'THi'ais.'  :: 


Oh,  loved  by  me  beyond  what  words 
Or  sighs  have  e'er  expressed, 

Thine  are  life's  ills  till  Heaven  affords 
To  my  beloved  rest. 


Htntttt  %tnn 

Come  ye  yourselves  apart  and  rest  awhile ; 

The  sun  sinks  in  the  west, 
The  day  is  passed  with  all  its  varied  toil ; 
'Tis  time  for  rest. 

Come  ye  from  counting-house  and  busy  mart, 

From  crowded  street  —  arrest 

The  hurrying  thoughts  which  agitate  the  heart; 

'Tis  time  for  rest. 

Come  at  God's  bidding  from  the  long,  long  toil 

For  that  which  is  not  best. 
And  seek  in  humble  trust  a  Father's  smile, 
And  calmly  rest. 


46 


A2iiirnt 

The  morning  light  is  breal<ine 

Through  all  the  eastern  sky 
And  glorious  beams  are  flashing 

In  radiancy  on  high; 
Ihe  clouds  in  rolling  masses 

Are  fringed  with  seven-fold  light 
And  deepening  in  their  splendor 

As  day  succeeds  the  night. 

Already  angel  cohorts 

Are  standing  in  array. 
Ami  waiting  for  the  signal 

To  rise  and  speed  awav : 

VVifhTv,  'n-  ="''^'^?"&^1'^  trumpet 

With  thrilling  blast  shall  sound 

Throughout  death's  dark  dominions, 

And  wake  from  sleep  profound. 

And  while  the  saints  are  waking 
And  mounting  up  on  high, 

May  we  in  that  blest  concourse 
Speed  upward  through  the  skv  • 

And  upward,  ever  upward, 

x-^r      .P?,'^'^  commanding  word. 

We  shall  ascend  in  triumph 
To  meet  the  coming  Lord 


47 


Along  the  crowded,  busy  street 
The  windows  glitter  with  display 

Of  tempting  wares,  and  busy  feet 
Are  hurrying  onward  day  by  day ; 

The  Christmas  cheer  is  in  the  air, 

And  Christmas-tide  is  everywhere. 

The  greedy  world  is  all  elate 

To  barter  merchandise  for  gold ; 

And  merchant  prince  and  huckster  prate 
Of  wondrous  bargains  manifold,  — 

When  Christmas  cheer  is  in  the  air. 

And  Christmas-tide  is  everywhere. 

I'ut  Christ,  whose  Name  the  season  bears, 
Sees  His  own  house  deserted  quite,  — 

But  half-adorned  for  praise  and  prayer, 
While  all  the  busy  world  is  bright, 

And  Christmas  cheer  is  in  the  air, 

And  Christmas-tide  is  everywhere. 

That  Name  is  scrawled  on  merchandise; 

His  holy  season,  bought  with  blood 
Of  saints,  is  time  to  advertise 

The  wares  of  Mammon  and  his  brood ; 
Though  Christmas  cheer  is  in  the  air. 
The  Christ  is  bartered  evervwhere. 


48 


(ElitiBtttmB 

•  Unto  us  a  Child  is  born ;  unto  us  a  Son  is  given.' 
Wake,  happy  morn,  whose  story  brings 

A  joyous  thrill  to  young  and'  old : 
While  speeding  near,  on  hovering  wings. 
The  angels  sweep  their  harps  of  gold; 
And  earth  and  sky 
In  numbers  vie. 
Rehearsing  how  upon  this  morn, 
Long  years  ago, 
'Mid  sin  and  woe, 
That  unto  us  a  Child  was  born. 

And  ever,  as  the  years  go  b\-. 

The  glorious  chant  is  sung  again. 
By  angel  choristers  on  high. 
Of  peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men : 
And  as  the  song 
Floats  far  along 
Where  toil  the  weary  and  the  worn, 
The  message  comes 
To  hearts  and  homes. 
That  unto  us  a  Child  is  born. 

Hail,  glorious  morn,  whose  advent  brings 

Hope  for  the  sinful  and  defiled ! 
Hail,  blessed  morn,  the  King  of  Kings 
Comes  to  the  world  a  little  Child ! 
And  singing  still 
Peace  and  good  will. 
The  angels  come  this  happy  morn. 
To  tell  again 
To  sons  of  men. 
That  unto  us  a  Child  is  born. 


49 


^t  Vitbmptian 

'Tis  night,  and  over  all  the  darkling  skv 
Sweep  eboii  clouds,  with  here  and  there  a  flash 
Of  distant  lightning,  serving  but  to  show 
llic  depth  of  gloom  which  covers  land  and  sea  ■ 
AiKl  in  the  gloom  no  sound  is  heard:  the  bird 
Ut  night  has  hushed  her  notes,  and.  motionless 
h'erches  alone  upon  a  lofty  bough. 
And  mopes  in  silence  quiet  as  the  grave 
Ihe  place  is  weird:  great  gnarled  olive  trees 
Ut   ancient   growth,   beneath    whose    spreading 
boughs,  ^ 

Umbrageous,    matted    vines   and    flowers   grow' 

wild,  '' 

Stand  like  so  many  hoarv  sentinels 
And  cast  a  deeper  gloom'  upon  the  scone. 

A  siidden  waking  —  sound  of  steps  is  heard 
siTs*^^'    whispering   low,   and   groans   and 

Which  tell  of  desolation  and  despair: 
Then  four  forlorn  sojourners  to  that  place 
Uf  mystic  darkness  wend  their  wav.  and  One 
some  paces  in  advance,  moves  slo'wlv  on 
Ihe  three  in  sorrow  sink  upon  the  ground 
And   sob  themselves   to   sleep:  but   He,   whose 
steps 

Have  brought  Him  to  the  place  of  deepest  gloom. 
In  solitude  kneels  down,  and,  lifting  hands 
And  eyes  toward  heaven,  in  desolation  pravs 
While    from    His    upturned    Brow    the  'blood 

streams  down : 
The  life  blood  oozing  out  at  every  pore. 
(Oh,  wondrous,  unexampled  agony') 
Suffusing  face  and  breast  with  crimson  sweat 
He  swoons!  He  falls  I  But,  no!  Behold,  a  form 


5° 


To  Him  appears,  and,  with  a  reverent  touch 

°?lS^d;  °"'  ""  "^^  "'^  horrid  maTks  of 
While  words  of  comfort  and  of  couraire  breathe 
Heroic  fortitude  into  His  soul.  ^  ^ 

And  hope  of  everlasting  victory. 

Again  'tis  darkness,  and  He  is  alone 
But  for  a  space,  and  awful  silence  reigns- 
Then  suddenly,  as  when  a  driving  wim" 
Brings  clouds  of  locusts,  which  devour  the  eorn 
Ten  thousand  thousand  dismal  shades  sweep  by' 
On  dusky  wings  upborne,  and  each  pronounce," 
A  hissing  curse  on  Him  who  prays,  and  str've 

ButTl'  '"*  "'T'  ^""^  destroy  Him  there 
But  looking  upward  to  the  murky  sky. 
He  heeds  not  all  their  malice;  He  but   hinks 
Of  victory  and  triumph  over  death 
AndS-  ^'T  Vi'"'"  "''  companions  sleep, 

hour?"  ^^  "°'  '"^^"^  ""■'*'  ^^«  °"e 

And  then  returns  and  prays  as  at  the  first. 
Yet  once  again  He  rises  from  the  ground 
And  goes  to  look  upon  the  helpless  ones 
Who  sleep  m  sorrow.     "  Even  so,"  saith  He 

Sleeps  all  this  hapless  worid  in  sin  and  death- 
And  I  alone  can  wake  the  dead  to  life 
As  in  the  book  'tis  written,  lo!  I  come'" 
Hp'f,r'' u°  ^''  accustomed  place  of  praver 
Sn^,^%?"  ',T'>^  '"^y'  ='"d-  kneeling  down 

"Pa^herint  h"'""'Kf'T^  "^  prayed^befo^; 
father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  pass 

This  bitter  cup:  but  yet  Thy  will  be  done!  " 

A  thrill,  an  ecstasy  of  power  supreme 

And  infinite  comes  over  Him;  and  forth 

Alone  in  His  omnipotence  He  goes, 

lo  tread  the  winepress  of  Almighty  God! 

S' 


u 


"  Come,"  saith   He  to  His  sleeping  comrades, 

"Come, 
He  that  betrayeth  Me  is  close  at  hand." 
And  soon  the  flaring  torches  borne  aloft 
By  hands  unholy  of  a  multitude 
Approach  in  weird  disorder,  marshaled  on 
By  one  foredoomed  and  reprobate.     Thev  halt. 
"  Whom  seek  ye  ?  "    As  from  Sinai's  brow,  the 

words 
Vibrate  upon  the  nightly  air,  and  strike 
Terror  and  consternation  to  the  heart. 
As  if  a  bolt  from  heav'n  in  fury  hurled 
Had  smitten  all  that  multitude,  they  fall 
Prostrate  and  stricken  to  the  ground,  amazed. 
But  He  restrains  His  power  omnipotent : 
He  wills  not  to  destroy,  but  to  retrieve. 

And  then  draws  nigh  perdition's  perjured  slave, 
And  with  a  kiss  —  what  seemed  a  loving  kiss  — 
He  designates  the  Victim,  and  is  gone. 
We  follow  with  the  rabble,  and  behold 
The  assembled  council  waiting  to  condemn 
From  perjured  evidence  the  Anointed  One. 
And  then  to  Pilate's  judgment  hall  we  go, 
And  hear  the  brutal  judge,  to  pity  moved, 
Pleading  for  mercy.     Then  to  Herod's  court 
We  take  our  way,  and  note  the  travesty  — 
The  purple  robe,  the  kneeling,  and  the  words 
Of  mockery;  and  back  again  we  go 
To  Pilate's  hall  of  judgment,  and  once  more 
We  hear  the  pleading  of  the  pitying  judge: 
"  Behold  your  King!  "     A  moment  all  is  hushed, 
And  then,  as  if  from  hell,  the  loud  acclaim: 
"  Release  Barabbas !     Crucify  the  Christ !  " 
They  spit  upon  Him,  smite  Him  on  the  face. 
Clothe  Him  in  scarlet,  plate  the  crown  of  thorns, 
And  rudely  press  it  on  His  Sacred  Head ; 


{ 


52 


A  rccd  for  sceptre  in  His  hand  thev  place. 
Ihen  111  mock  liomape  bow  the  inip'ious  knee' 
And  now  they  bind  Him  to  the  pillar's  base, 
While   brawny   arms   are   bared,   and   scourees 

raised.  " 

And  blow  on  blow  successively  conies  down 
In  rapid  strokes,  which  lacerate  and  tear 
„  t  '''^X"  "";  P'?w  scores  deep  the  virgin  soil ! 
To   Golpotha!"   the   hoarse,    rough   Ihout   is 
raised. 
The  Victim  is  unbound,  and  on  tlini  laid 
The  ponderous  timbers  of  the  fatal  Cross  • 
And  thus  the  awful  jounicv  is  bcim 
With  shouts,  and  oaths,  and  hia.rphcmies.     He 

falls. 
Exhausted,  faint,  and  blcedinR.  to  the  ground  • 
And  for  a  moment  all  is  still,  uhcn,  nKux-d 
And  urged  by  deep  compassion,  rushes  one  — 
A  sun-dyed  stranger— from  the  rabble  throng 
And  takes  the  Cross,  and  bears  it  to  the  place 
(Jf  execution.     Soon  the  soldiers'  work 
Is  finished.     The  Messiah  with  His  blood 
Is  cleansing  now  the  fallen  sons  of  men  • 
By  merits  bridging  o'er  the  gulf  profound 
Impassable  before,  which  intervened 
'Twixt  earth  and  heaven ;  and  blotting  records 

Which  man  in  vain  had  oft  essa\ed  to  do. 


heaven's   burning  eye   is 


Slow  pass  the  hour 

closed ; 

The  moon  withholds  her  light,  and.  as  it  were 
I  he  curtains  of  deep  midnight  shut  from  sight 
Ihe  work  stupendous  of  redeeming  I  ove 
Angels  are  gazing  o'er  the  crvstal  walls 
And  battlements  of  heaven  upon  that  scene 
IJesiring  more  and  more  to  understand 


S3 


I 


Justice  divine  and  mercy  reconciled. 

"  'Tis  done ! "  the  Victim  cries,  and  suddenlv 

A  sevenfold  radiance  flashes  from  the  Cross,' 

Which  like  a  central  sun,  in  noontide  glow, 

Grows  bright  and  brighter  to  the  perfect  dav, 

Diffusing  light  and  splendor  far  away 

To  earth's  remotest  bounds,  in  east  and  west. 

Throughout  the  courts  and  palaces  of  heaven 

Hosannas  "-''ng,  and  never  until  then 

Were   heard    such   glad   acclaims ;   on    flowery 

meads 
Atid  golden  streets  the  tiironging  myriads. 
With  harps  and  viols,  raise  the  triumph  song. 
And  fill  the  universe  with  harmonv. 
While  angels  hymn  the  praise  of  Him  who  died, 
And  thus  brought  life  and  immortality 
To  light  by  His  evangel,  He  goes  forth 
In  Spirit  to  proclaim  in  Paradise 
The  story  of  redemption ;  nor  forgot 
Are  those  who,  when  the  flood  of  waters  swept 
O'er  loftiest  mountains,  sank  beneath  the  waves. 
And  died  in  ignorance ;  to  them  He  goes. 
And  tells  of  vanquished  death,  and  life  reclaimed. 

Oh,  work  stupendcms,  wondrous,  infinite! 
But  One  in  all  the  universe  could  bring 
So  much  to  pass,  nor  fail  in  aught  essayed  ! 
And  yet  'twas  from  humility  there  sprang 
The  power  to  will  and  do ;  'twas  as  He  prayed, 
Prone  on  the  earth,  Omnipotence  revived ; 
And  from  the  place  of  prayer  He  rose  to  wage 
The  war  of  conquest  to  the  gates  of  hell, 
O'ercame  the  enemy  of  God  and  man. 
And  won  again  the  lost  inheritance. 


54 


JBo  tiff  Jiarquia  of  Buffirrin  and  Aba 

"  Clandeboye, 
Co.  Down,  Ireland, 

..  JT     J         w      .,  "'"'  Fch'y,  igoi. 

My  dear  Mr.  Newell: 

Many,  many  thanks  for  vour  very  kind 
letter.  I  have  indeed  been  wading  through  very 
deep  waters,  and  no  more  grateful  alleviations 
have  come  to  mc  in  the  midst  of  my  many  sor- 
rows than  those  which  I  have  received  from  my 
kind  and  faithful  friends  in  Canada;  but  never 
have  I  been  so  deeply  touched  as  by  the  tender 
regard  embodied  in  your  beautiful  verses.  They 
have  gone  straight  to  my  heart,  and  my  wife  has 
been  as  much  affected  as  myself. 

Nothing  could  have  beeii  more  grateful  to  my 
feelings  than  the  tender  and  aflfectionate  sympathy 
which  they  convey. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Mr.  Newell, 

Yours  very  sincerely. 

DuiFERlN    ,\ND  .AVA." 

We  mourn  today  our  Empress-Queen, 
Whose  glorious  sway  o'er  land  and  sea 

Seems  like  a  golden  link  between 
The  past  and  that  which  is  to  be. 

And  yet  amid  the  Empire's  grief 
We  turn,  at  mem'ry's  kind  behest, 

To  him  whose  star  once  ruled  as  chief 
In  our  horizon  of  the  West. 

'Twas  long  ago  when  he  and  she  — 
Two  names  which  proudly  we  recall  — 

Came  to  our  West  Land  o'er  the  sea 
To  grace  the  courts  of  Rideau  Hall. 

57 


I  i      I 

i 


A  yf»"  ""«  •hen  have  hastened  on, 
And  bhghted  hopes  of  love's  younp  dream ; 
•^"''  "lany  a  treasure  since  has  pone. 
Which  time  ami  age  can  ne'er  redeem. 

'  )h  !   what  a  desolate  domain 

Has  life's  fair  frarden-Rround  become ; 
And  few  the  roses  that  remain, 

To  tell  of  peace,  and  joy,  and  home! 

Still  love  abides,  and  o'er  the  scene 

Of  desolation  sheds  a  light. 
Which  consecrates  whate'cr  has  been 

And  pilds  the  Ratlicring  clouds  of  night. 

Friend  of  my  Country,  far  away 
,,,1.Y,''  '"■■"  our  Kaze  kcross  the  sea. 
While  hope  and  inem'ry.  day  by  day 
Are  still  with  thee— 'are  'still  with  thee! 

Jfo  Mr.  m.  K.  «!rl,arJUi0n.  ffl.p. 

Could  wishes  rehabilitate 

The  honored  name  of  Ricliardson 

And  once  more  surely  reinstate 

The  man  who  many  a  contest  won ; 

How  soon  embarrassment  would  vield 

To  kind  evangels  of  success  : 
And  honest  worth  should  take  the  field 

To  win  the  guerdon  of  redress. 

Yet  hope  on  eagle  pinions  soars 
O'er  mount  and  moorland  near  and  far 

And  looks  beyond  the  nameless  shores 
Where  fortune  waged  a  luckless  war 


S8 


I 


'"shT'   "'V'™"!""''  '•>  IH-  wo., 
Th,;*    '"',''^'''"''  "hatcer  has  been 
That  fr.cn.ls  .,..,1  f,,,..,  shall  gaze  rnxDn 

Thes,ru»g|.,„,„ieha,lcn%hZ?win. 

There  is  no  failure  l,„t  „,av  prove 

Ureanis  „.  siu  .ess.  a..,l  .Iwells  alK.ve 
1  he  common  level  of  mankind. 

He  may  appear  to  suffer  loss 

And  sometimes  meet  a  col.l  world's  frown  ■ 
»>it  often  that  which  seems  a  cross 

May  Ik-  the  sl,a<l„w  of  a  crown. 

Look  upward  to  the  mrnmtain  height 
Whose  snowclad  pinnacles  appear  ' 
u?l*",'''""*  '"  "'*■  "f'iant  liRht 
Which  change-^  not  from  year  to  >ear. 

So  tnanhood   true  to  Heaven's  design. 

Remains  the  same  in  bloom  or  hlight 
\Vh.le  on  Its  lofty  summits  shine 

I  he  siinherims  of  eternal  light. 


) 


Sy 


W^'^W^   %  'iJlM. 


ifatl,  SrrtJrm  nf  %  Msstit  «jtr 

Hail!    brethren  of  the  mystic  rite, 

With  whom  I  companied  in  the  past, 
Once  more  comes  round  the  festal  night. 

When  care  unto  the  winds  is  cast ; 
And  brethren  meet  around  the  board 

Where  Friendship's  loving-cup  is  quafTcd 
To  celebrate  with  one  accord 

An  ancient  landmark  of  the  Craft. 

While  far  away  from  you  tonight, 

I  muse  o'er  happy  times  gone  by ; 
For  years  in  their  successive  flight 

Can  never  darken  mem'ry's  eye. 
The  past  has  vanished  like  a  flood 

Whose  torrent  rushes  down  the  hill ; 
But  tokens  of  true  brotherhood 

Are  with  me  — thrill  me  — cheer  me  still. 

Some,  who  were  with  us  in  the  past, 

Shall  meet  with  us,  alas !   no  more. 
Their  star  at  length  was  overcast. 

To  shine  upon  a  brighter  shore. 
And  younger  feet  the  burdens  bear, 

Which  aged  feet  had  borne  so  long ; 
And  younger  hands  the  labors  share  — 

May  they  be  trusty,  true,  and  strong ! 

May  Heaven's  All-Seeing  Eye  behold 

No  wandering  from  the  sphere  of  right  ■ 
But  whatsoever  may  unfold. 

Let  there  be  light'—  let  there  be  light ' 
Farewell !   while  ye  together  meet. 

As  ancient  custom  would  commend. 
Within  the  sacred  safe  retreat, 

Remember  then  an  absent  friend. 


60 


Mizpaif 


The  U>r<l  between  i,s  watch  while  we 
.pAV"'-^'"°'"^^<=h  other, 
I  hat  thou  a  sister  be  to  me, 

And  I  to  thee  a  brother; 
Whatever  paths  o„r  feet  niav  trea.l 

V  hatever  blessings  cheer   „r 

)l  »,   -•/  ^'''  "'^'  "^°"  art  led 
In  spirit  ever  near  me. 

The  Lor,l   between   „s   watch  by  day 
\\  hen  cares  our  hours  encumber 
And';™.!!"  ''''■'^""'  f^d*' 

Th^  Lord^t"  '''='P""'  '"  '^""^, 
\     ?u    "^'ween  us  watch,  until 
Anther  day  is  breaking 


6i 


rr^-= 


Martini} 

Do  you  romeinber  how  we  stood 

The  night  we  said  good-bye, 
As  hand  in  hand,  a  tearful  band, 

Our  parting  song  swelled  high? 
We  looked  like  those  who  met  to  part. 

Your  hand  the  while  in  mine ; 
And  while  we  felt  the  grief  at  heart. 

We  sang  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

Full  many  sang  with  us  that  night 

Who  ne'er  shall  meet  as  then 
To  sing  the  song  with  heart  and  tongue 

When  partings  come  again  ; 
And  two  were  there  who  felt  the  most 

The  throb  in  every  line 
Of  that  old  song,  and  learnt  the  cost 

Of  singing  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

The  night  is  long  since  passed,  and  vet 

The  mem'ry  is  the  same ; 
Time  cannot  teach  us  to  forget 

The  thrill  which  o'er  us  came ; 
And  till  the  last  our  hearts  shall  turn 

To  that  sad  day's  decline. 
When  hand  in  hand,  a  tearful  band. 

We  sang  of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 


62 


aio  Artlpir 

Dear  Arthur,  lis  thy  natal  clay. 
When  like  a  sunbeam  on  our  wav 
Thou  earnest  where  the  shadows  lav, 

And  siimincr  suns  were  shining; 
And  for  a  while  the  brightness  beamed 
Before  us,  and  around  us  gleamed 
A  fairyland,  and  fancy  dreamed. 

With  young  hope  intertwining. 

How  proudly  expectation  caught 
The  thrill  of  life's  supremest  thought. 
And  from  the  mountain  summit  brought 

The  tints  which  deck  the  morning ; 
And  all  the  valley  shone  with  light, 
As  upland  slope  and  rugged  height 
Were  bathed  in  splendors  pure  and  bright. 

Enriched  with  love's  adorning. 

But,  ah  I  too  .soon  the  flush  was  gone, 
And  where  our  laggard  feet  went  on. 
The  light  of  life  grew  pale  and  wan, 

Like  twilight  o'er  the  meadows ; 
And  then  we  knew  the  pathway  led 
Where  never  this  world's  light  was  shed. 
And  thou,  dear  child,  alone  must  tread 

The  valley  of  the  shadows! 

But  never  comes  thy  natal  day 
Without  remembrance  of  the 'ra\- 
Of  glorious  sunshine,  passed  away. 

Like  flash  of  summer  lightning; 
And  far  beyond  the  western  skv. 
Where  we  shall  journey  by  and  by. 
The  everlasting  land.scapes'  lie. 

Still  nearer  seen,  and  bright'ning. 


f-i 


Yes,  nearer  seen  in  l)rijfht'iiin)r  jrlnw. 
The  vistas  open  as  we  go 
In  quest  of  what  we  lost  below. 

When  mists  were  rountl  us  clinging- 
And  soon  our  eyes  shall  gaze  on  thee. 
Where  those  upon  the  glassv  sea  — 
Th    innumerable  compan\'  — 
The  triumph-song  are  singing ! 

My  boy,  thon'rt  very  dear  to  me. 
But  thou  canst  neither  know  nor  sec 
What  changeless  love  to  thee  I  give. 
Aor  how  for  thee  I  long  to  live. 
To  \iatch  thine  infant  vears,  and  jov 
To  see  thy  mind  expand,  my  boy. 

Thy  brother  had  as  fair  a  brow  — 
Was  bright  with  intellect  as  thou : 
But  by  the  wayside  where  he  trod. 
His  spirit  passed  from  earth  to  God. 
And  I  could  only  murmur  —  Why  ? 
And  weep  in  sorrow  o'er  my  boy. ' 

Forever  closed  his  sparkling  eyes. 
At  rest  beneath  the  sod  he  lies'. 
Where  roses  bloom,  and  shadowing  trees 
.Sigh  requiems  in  the  passing  breeze ; 
And  love,  and  light,  and  hope,  and  jov 
Seemed  lost  forever  with  my  boy. 

But  thou  art  with  me,  as  today 
With  thy  sweet  innocence  I  play. 
And  see  thy  face  all  wreathed  in  smiles 
Like  waves  of  light  o'er  sun-kissed  isles  • 


64 


And  not  a  pleasure  ?^eenis  to  clov 
I  hine  innocent  delight,  my  boy.' 

I  think  of  days  whicli  are  to  be 

And  what  those  <la>s  shall  bring  to  thee 

Of  joy  or  grief,  of  weal  or  woe 

■\J'  varynig  seasons  come  and  go 

Ami  varying  cares  thy  life  employ. 

When  thou  art  older  grown,  my  boy. 

rhose  t,m-  feet -where  shall  the^■  tr^ad 

Shin       ;'  """'•,"'"  "'^'  ''^il^-  bread? 
■Sha  1  virtue  guide,  or  vice  decov, 
In  days  which  are  to  come,  my  boy? 

(^pd  grant  tliat    whatsoe'er  tin   fate 
Thou  may  St  in  honor's  cause  be  gri-at 
Prepared  to  stand  by  what  is  riglft 
Ordie   ,f  need  be,  i„. the  fight  ^ 
rhus^glad  to  live  or  proud  to  die 
J50  Shalt  thou  triumph  still,  my  boy, 

®n  intfiB  (gralram 

Days  ago  a  message  came 
Fraught  with  wishes  in  vour  name  ■ 
Wishes    or  which  thanks  are  due 
Oratefully,  my  friend,  to  vou 
May  your  words  of  blessiiig  be 
Answered  not  alone  on  me 

Frm.TK^  "•'"■'''''"  '"  S-^dness  shed 
l-r|iial  blessings  on  your  head. 


6S 


i  <i 


iElfStar  l^oitttB 


I 


9n  Mmaty  af  tift  IBarquiB  of  Batttrbi 
mb  Aba 

■'  His  life  wa-*  gentle,  and  (he  elements 
So  mixed  in  him  that  Nature  might  stand  up 
And  say  to  all  the  world  —  This  was  a  Man." 

—  Shakespeare. 

Till-  silviT  cord  is  loosud,  tlic  goldon  bowl 
Is  broken  at  the  fount,  tlic  pitcher  rent, 
And  as  in  other  days  the  wheel  no  more 
rjraws  up  the  precious,  life-sustaining  draught. 
IJack  to  the  native  dust  again  return 
The  conl    the  bowl,  the  pitcher,  and  the  wheel; 
While  that  mysterious  aeon  we  call  \\li\ 
Whose  cunning  skill  and  quick  intelligence 
Kept  all  in  motion  through  the  many  years 
Of  great  achievements,  weary  grown  at  last 
In  shaping  oft  an  Empire  s  destiny. 
Goes  out  upon  ih'  eternal  sea,  which  rolls 
Its  billows  round  the  world  ;  and  finds  repose 
And  solace  in  the  I'aradise  of  God. 

We  waive  the  years  when  he  attendant  stood 

In  the  full  light  and  splendor  of  the  throne. 

The  brightest  star  in  Britain's  galaxy 

Of  noble  manhood ;  so  of  other  days ' 

We  put  aside  the  record,  when  afar, 

In  many  lands,  he  held  within  his  grasp 

The  destinies  of  nations,  and,  supreme 

O'er  every  adverse  wave  of  circumstance. 

Brought  order  out  of  chaos,  and  conserved 

The  Crown's  prerogatives  and  freemen's  rights. 

Great  were  his  aims  and  his  achievements  great. 
Where'er  he  moved  a  magic  atmosphere 
Surrounded  him ;  and  those  who  would  contend. 


69 


I 


Siitxluod.  as  by  some  subtle  alchemy. 
Became  his  pupils,  proud  to  rank  as  such. 

I'lUt  'twas  as  Man  and  Citizen  were  seen 
His  gfrcatness  and  his  gentleness  at  best, 
When  roU'  and  coronet  were  laid  aside, 
With  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  state. 
Then  wisdom  spake,  and  wit  electric  flashed, 
While  dignity  and  merriment  conjoined 
To  build  the  stately  edifice  of  thought. 
Which,  like  the  Temple  on  Moriah's  crest. 
Was  perfect  in  its  parts,  and  beautiful  — 
So  stone  too  many,  and  no  stone  too  few. 

Where  stands  his  equal  in  true  dignity 
And  suavity,  which  mark  the  Gentleman  ? 
The  world  is  poorer  now  that  he  is  gone ; 
And  vaiidy  shall  we  l(X)k  through  high  and  low- 
Tor  one  who  so  combined  the  elements. 
And  taught  us  what  God's  image  is  in  man. 
r>ut  greatness  is  not  proof  against  the  blows 
Of  adverse  fortune:  and  this  man  of  men, 
Whose  heart  was  all  aglow  with  sympathy 
I'or  ills  of  others,  Ixjwed  at  length' beneath 
The  load  of  anguish,  when  the  cold,  still  form 
Of  an  heroic  son  from  far  came  home  — 
A  pale  mute  herald  from  the  battlefield. 
Whose  message,  though  unspoken,  told  of  death. 

Half-mast  the  banners,  toll  the  passing-bell, 
A  great  soul  now  is  rising  into  light 
Beyond  the  confines  of  this  darker  world  : 
And  there,  where  Gotl  shall  wipe  away  all  tears. 
The  weary  soul  shall  find  the  welcome  rest, 
Until  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  become 
The  kingdoms  of  our  God  and  of  His  Christ. 
And  w'  1  His  saints  triumphant  He  shall  reign. 
When  time  shall  lose  the  record  of  the  years. 

70 


(To  IHi)  Qouijlftrr  Etlflrm 
I 

At  last  the  iiKniriiful  day  has  come  — 

A  sad  November  day  — 
When  sunhght  tints,  in  Rathering  kI'k'i" 

Ikifin  to  pass  away  : 
And  skies,  all  hilRhtly  flecked  at  morn. 
lire  noiintiile  hour  to  darkness  tm  n. 

As  with  the  sunheanis  and  the  skies. 

VX'hen  antnnni  days  are  come. 
So  eartlily  hope  in  darkness  dies. 

And  sinks  into  the  tomb. 
Where  all  onr  little  dreams  at  last 
In  blast  anil  blight  are  overcast. 

As  it  has  been,  so  shall  it  be. 

Henceforth,   foreverniore : 
The  dream  shall  reach  maturity. 

Hilt,  ere  its  thrill  be  o'er. 
A  blast  may  come,  a  blipht  max  cast 
A  long  deep  sha<low  o'er  the  past. 

It  is  a  sad  Xoveniber  da_\ . 

And  in  our  lonely  home 
A  solemn  change  has  brought  decay 

To  life's  primeval  bloom : 
And  withered  on  life's  rugged  shore. 
Our  blossom  cheers  us  now  no  more. 

Sweet  memories  of  other  days 

Revive,  as  in  a  dream 
The  ever  changing  view  displays 

The  shadow  and  the  gleam. 
Which  gives  the  picture  God's  design. 
And  stamps  it  all  in  all  divine. 


7« 


Oh,  could  wf  look  beyond  the  veil, 

Where  dwell  the  saints  in  light. 
Such  blissful  vision  should  avail. 

And  charm  our  ravished  sif;ht ; 
And  wc  might  hear  the  minstrels\ 
Of  harpers  on  the  crystal  sea. 

How  foolish  then  would  seem  tile  lear> 

Of  Rachel  o'tr  the  de.ld, 
Who,  in  her  af;on>  and  fears. 

Woulil  not  lie  comforted; 
One  look  beyond  this  misty  sphere 
Would  Rlad  the  heart,  and'  dry  the  tear 

Hut  for  a  little  while,  j;.)od-bye. 

.My  long-alllicted  one ; 
Safe  in  the  palace  of  the  sk\. 

lieyond   the   radiant   suti. 
Thy  brother  welcomes  thee  toiiav 
Where  hope  can  never  fade  awa.\. 

And  there,   where   vales  and   iiujiMitains  clad 

In  light  for  thine  abode. 
And  by  the  river  which  makes  glad 

The  City  of  our  Cod. 
Beyond  all  bieadth.  and  depth,  and  height. 
Exult  in  everlasting  light ! 

IF 

'Tis  the  first  Hake  of  snow  which  has  fall'n  on 
thy  breast. 

Since  in  .sorrow  we  laid  thee,  our  first-born,  at 
rest. 

Where  the  storms  of  the  winter  shall  never  In- 
heard, 

Nor  at  glad-coming  springtide  the  song  of  the 
bird. 

7» 


iiin  was 
[im-pect 

r-.llv 


As  (hmi  |.ill„vv\t  tl,>  lu.ad  wIutc  tin  brother  liav 
slept 

l-or  the  sno,v  sfe.ns  a  cov'rinK  t.«,  cold  f„r  th> 
With  n„  roof  l,„t  the  sky  rea.Mn;;  over  thy  heail. 

We  were  careful  for  thee  mIiiL    iliv  .,,  , 
here,  ' 

We  were  thoiiRhtfiil   f  •.    mi.t.  .,■■   ,l 
(s'rew  drear: 

Hilt    now    that    dear    ;„i.  ,.    ■,,•!,  c|.    >v( 
caressed, 

Is  shelterless  laid  w.-.h  tlie  m',.v.   ,„,  t!r.  hrcast. 

Oh !  sad  desolation  is  hroodinR  Inl  m 
Where  the  ho|)es  we  once  .!„,,  iu,l  are  i.uricl 
in  snow ; 

Whlr^i.^'"'!',  "^  "^^  ^i'"'*^''  ^^^■^■'^^''  '»■"  'hv  bed. 
thv  head!    "  'l--"-kness  thon  piflow'st 

HI 

'^hc  Christmas-tide  has  come  and  pone 

(A  time  to  her  devoid  of  ploom 
Ev  n  when  her  cheek  grew  pale  and  wan. 

And  youth  denied  to  her  its  bloom.) 

And  many  were  the  gifts  she  made 
Agamst  the  coming  Christmas-tide  • 

And.  ah !  when  lowlv  she  was  laid 

We  prized  them  for  her  sake  who  died. 

T°  "s  the  bright  glad  season  came 
With  one  dark  shadow  ca'it  athwart 

*-'"r,.P?'hway,  and  we  s|>oke  l;er  lume 
With  bated  breath  and  aching  heart. 

73 


i 


fr 


A  liiisli  liad  {all'ii  upon  our  lionic. 

A  silence  all  unknown  till  then : 
And  wlien  we  thouf;lit  that  she  should  conn-. 

Alas!  she  could  not  come  again! 

The  husy  world  (,'ocs  on  the  same : 

The  places  she  freiiuevitcd  most 
Scarce   recognize  her  well-known   name  — 

Her  very  memory  seems  lost. 

Tis  only  in  the  home  where  dwell 

The  ones  who  loved  her  tlirough  the  years 
That  memory  awakes  to  tell 

The  tale  of  suffering,  death,  at\d  tears. 

There,  as  the  darkened  days  go  hy. 

Her  absence  never  is  forgot: 
The  saddened  heart,  the  frequent  sigli 
.\re  tokens  of  the  loving  thought. 

N'othing  but  love  survives,  and  hides 
Her  little  faults.  whateVr  they  were : 

It  wanes  not.  fails  not.  s,  1'  abides, 
And  sanctifies  each  thougl-.t  of  her, 

IV 

Come,  genial  Spring,  and  speak  to  me 
Of  Nature  waking  from  the  tomb: 

And  in  thy  coming  I  shall  sec 
A  hope  of  better  things  to  come. 

The  winter  of  our  discontent 

Is  merging  in  the  fuller  light 
And  radiance  of  the  firmament. 

Beyond  the  confines  of  the  night. 

Soon  shall  the  twilight,  in  whose  gloom 
We  see  in  part  and  know  in  part, 

74 


it' 


The  brightness  of  the  day  assume. 
When  storms  shall  cease  and  clouds  depart, 

"From'h',V-'  r""=".«I'""g-tide  break 
Ti,„         l"'"/  '°"S  ^^'"ter,  to  renew 
The  waste  of  ages,  an.l  awake 

lo  life  and  light  the  flowers  that  grew 
In  pensive  beauty  where  we  trod 

1  he  pathway  with  uneven  pace- 
And  Nature   looking  „p  to  God, 
Shall  catch  th'  effulgence  of  His  face! 

V 

Which  "'  \^'  ^  ^'^"ff^l'^^ss  love. 

All.  all  was  bright  below,  above. 

We  come  with  sorrow's  wreaths  to  pl.^ce 
,,,P'"-  tribute  of  affection  here 
Where  hope  awhile  forbears  to  trace 
1  he  issue  of  its  high  career. 

And  yet,  despite  our  falling  tears 

An  expectation,  redolent 
Of  Paradise,  o'crleaps  the  \ear^ 

Between  us  and  that  one  Kvent. 

Which  comes  upon  the  wheels  of  timc> 

Mill  nearer,  as  the  da\s  go  b\  • 
And  looking  to  the  heights  sublime 

We  seem  to  hear  the  midnight  cry: 

"  The  Bri<Iegroom  cometh  !  "     .S„,l,!e„h 
ia.th  hears  the  heavenly  heralds  sing- 
Uh,  grave    where  is  thv  victorv  "^ 
Oh,  death!  oh.  .leath !  where  is  thv  stl„g--  ■ 


I'i] 


i 

A 


m  < 


■  I 


f 


QIa  fly  ^on  Artlptr 

Not  dead  — not  dead,  my  child,  but  gone 

A  little  while  to  rest. 
Until  the  breaking  of  the  dawn, 

To  be  a  welcome  guest 
With  those  who  have  the  battle  fought, 
And  won  the  victory  they  sought. 

I  wept  when  last  I  saw  thy  face, 

And  knew  I  should  no  more 
Behold  thee,  till,  in  God's  rich  grace. 

Upon  the  farther  shore, 
I  should  thy  dazzling  presence  sec. 
And  joy  in  Paradise  with  thee! 

And  now,  iin  son,  thy  sister  goes 

To  thine  abode  of  peace ; 
I  see  her  drooping  like  the  rose. 

.And  waiting  for  release, -- 
And,  oh !  mv  heart  —  it  breaks  —  it  breaks. 
For  all  that'Heav'n  recalls  and  takes! 

But  patience  —  patience !  earthly  loss 

Must  never  shake  the  trust 
Of  anv  soldier  of  the  Cross, 

Who  owns  that  God  is  just: 
Mv  blossoms,  now  despoiled,  shall  bloom 
in'  fadeless  light  beyond  the  tomb. 

And  I  a  little  while  shall  stay. 
Where  waves  and  storms  are  rife. 

Until  I  too  am  called  away 
To  that  unchanging  life. 

To  meet  in  joy,  and  peace,  an<i  rest 

The  stainless  spirits  of  the  blest. 

And  there  upon  the  heights  sublime. 
Where  man  has  never  trod. 

76 


ili 


W  liere  never  more  the  mists  of  time 

Shall  hide  the  face  of  Gnd 
I  he  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  come 
And  clann  their  everlasting  home ! 

J^rankltn  dirCrag 

THE    ACTOR 
"  After  life's  fitful  fever,  lie  sleeps  well." 

—  Shakespeare. 

He  is  gone,  who  but  yesterdav  stood  forth  in 

T,Slory, 

The  pride  of  his  calling,  so  hopeful  and  younu. 
The  man  who  to  thousands  depicted  the  storv' 

Of  life  as  the  sweet  Swan  of  Avon  had  sung. 

And  where  thousands  of  plaudits  re-echoed  his 
praises. 
When  Cassius  contrived  or  /ago  cajoled 
In  vam  now  the  eye  of  the  multitude  gaze's 
No  more  is  he  seen   wh,5  aroused  and  'con- 
trolled. 

And  Canada  mourns  with  a  heart  of  d«n  sad- 
ness '^ 
For  him  who  was  first  in  her  annals  <,f  fame- 
And  the  sweet  song  of  love  and  the  lit'ht  note 
of  gladness 
Are  hushed  at  the  sound  of  his  magical  name. 

And  afar  in  the  home,  where  his  sweet  smile  was 
brightest. 
The  one  who  loved  dearest  is  .lesolate  there; 
And  while  sadly  she  mourns  him.  the  heart  which 
was  lightest 
Is  heaviest  now  in  its  premature  care. 


P 


;i 


77 


lie  is  gone,  an.l  forever  -  alas !  an.l  so  youthful. 

The  man  of  all  ages,  an.l  tmios   ami  degree. 

Tlic  lover  an.l   friend,  who  m  all  things  was 

Whose  "un  set  ere  midday  in  turbulent  seas. 
But  hke   Phcenix   shall   rise   from  his  desolate 

A^ong  line  of  worthies  to  stand  where  he 
Andihe  fame  which  he  won,  as  it  dazzles  and 

Shau\'iorify  him  who  was  noble  and  good! 


h'i 


'. 


78 


'J:l  u~  .  DCK2  •  L.t.ismmet^'^^Bmy 


Jfrrdrrirb  SintiB  WiStr  Ktlfim 

()f  hiRh  descent  ami  jjentle  reariiiK,  tlioii 
Hadst  tliat  Ml  tliee  wherewith  Heaven  doth  endow 
■ut  few,  and  those  the  favorites,  from  whom 
I  erpetnal  simshine  cliases  all  the  gloom, 
And  makes  unclouded  brightness  all  the  day 
And  gladness  reigns,  and  shadows  flee  away.' 

Old  m  thy  wisdom,  but  in  manner  voung. 
■Skdled  Ml  the  graces  t,f  a  guarded  tongue  • 
l-irm  to  withstand,  and  fearless  to  assail 
1  he  bland  temptations  which  in  vouth  prevail  ■ 
Irankness  and  gentleness  in   thee  were  joined 
lo  give  <iirection  to  thy  generous  mind. 
.Such  was  thy  character,  that  age  deferred 
And  youth   respected,   whilst   fhv.self  ileterred 
All  consciousness  of  each  suiieri'or  grace 
W  Inch  warmed  the  heart,  and  lightened  o'er  the 
face. 
In  vain  we  search  among  the  voung  and  olil 
lor  one  like  thee  of  virtues  manifold; 
And  as  upon  the  mound  which  haps  tliv  head 
he  tears  of  love  and  deep  regret  are  shed: 
And  sorrow  clings  to  niemVv's  greenest  spot. 
Which  never  shall  be  in  the  lears  forgot- 
We  summon  back  the  thoughts  of  other'  davs 
And  stand  like  mournful  statues  in  amaze 
lieholding.  in  the  presence  of  tin  tomb. 
To  what   small   compass   all   life's   hopes   have 
come. 
But  human  hearts,  repine  not,  nor  rebel- 
uie  race  was  nobly  run,  and  all  is  well. 


II 


1 


) 


79 


m 


Vabrrt  fitmn  Visgar 

•  Mark  llH-  perfect  man.  ami  hvW.Ul  ihe  upright;  for 
tlie  end  of  that  man  is  peace. 

When  good  men  ilie.  a  void  remains, 
Which  time  repairs  not  in  the  years 
Succeeding  all  the  hopes  and  fears 
The  grave  encloses  and  retains. 

\nd  hearts  max-  break,  and  tears  may  fall, 
'!  he  kindly  faces  smile  no  more 
Upon  us.  as  in  days  of  yore. 

When  they  to  us  were  all  in  all. 

The  grave  forever  keeps  in  trust 
The  treasures  of  departed  years: 
The  words  alone  ring  in  our  ears 

Of  earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust . 

And  thou,  whose  name  is  hour  by  hour 
\  household  word  wherever  known. 
Wert  Cod's  own  wheat  divinely  sown 

In  weakness  to  be  raised  in  power. 

True  gentleman  of  motives  high 
And  character  of  truth  and  grace. 
Thou  hadst  thine  own  jieculiar  place. 

Which  no  one  else  could  occupy. 

God  lent  thee  to  the  world  awhile. 

To  show  what  manhood  may  become; 
And  now  has  gentlv  called  thee  home. 

To  meet  thy  children's  welcome  smile. 

Oh  happv,  happv  is  thy  sphere. 

Beyond  what  we  can  dream  or  know 
While  we  must  sojourn  still  below. 

And  dailv  mourn  thine  absence  here. 


80 


But  Mu-nrry  calls  to  mind  the  vears 
Thy  feet  til"  path  of  duty  trod : 
And  hope  -raints  upward'  unto  God 

Trmmphant  through  the  mist  of  tears. 

BaJrii  mniB.  HM..  ECS..  3mUt  of  tiff 
Suprnttf  (Hmxrt  of  ffimtafta 

VVRITrK.V     BY    RFCQUEST 

\\  hen  the  young  Nation  took  her  destined  place 
And  set  herself  to  run  the  strenuous  race 
Of  nationhood,  not  heeding  leer  or  frown 
1-rom  terraced  seats,  whence  nianv  eves  looked 

down 
Of  old  competitors,  whose  strength  r)ft  tried 
In  that  arena  won.  where  others  died 
She  saw  her  few  proud  children  —  heard  their 

cheer, 
Which  urged  her  onward   in  licr  high  career 
To  reach  the  goal.  and.  for  herself  and  them 
lo  win  the  laurel  and  the  ditidcni. 
And  one  whose  cheer  rose  clearest,  hope-inspired, 
hhe  heard  and  heeded,  as  the  long  race  tired 
Her  inexperience,  and  new  vigor  came 
In  every  adverse  time  at  his  acclaim : 
She  heard  and  heeded  his  acclaim,  nor  stood 
Inactive,  till  the  crown  of  nationhood 
Lpon  her  brow  was  set,  an<l  she  steppe<l  forth 
In  queenly  grace  the   Mistress  of  the   N'orth 

Years  sped  and  he.  upon  life's  varied  stage  — 
I  he  Statesman.  Jurist.  Poet,  Scholar,  Sage — 
In  labors  oft,  and  in  achievements  great 
For  God  and  man,  beheld  the  proud  estate 
To  which  the  Nation  had  attained ;  and  grew 
A  part  of  all  things,  whether  old  or  new 


1 

I 


I' I 


)" 


,il 


)■ 


Fame,  honor,  gratitude  he  won.  and  gained 
The  loftv  height  by  honesty  unstained : 
\nd  with  th'  iUustrious  Roman*  in  accord, 
lie  taught  that  virtue  is  her  own  reward. 
Hut  at  the  zenith  of  distinction  came 
Th'  inexorable  summons,  in  the  name 
(If  pallid  death,  which  opens  wide  the  door 
Of  princely  halls  and  hovels  of  the  poor  ;t 
And  tnis  illustrious  .servant  of  the  State. 
Whose       ns   were   noble,   whose   aclucvciiicnts 

gCit, 

Weii'  -/ut  upon  th"  interminable  sea. 
VVho'c  billows  round  the  world  roll  ceaselessly. 
Went  out  and  outward  hound,  he  ne'er  returned. 
Though  in  his  lonelv  home  the  love-hght  burned : 
\nd  leaving  with  l;is  friends  a  hallowed  name, 
\nd  with  his  country,  lioiior.   faith,  ami  fame. 
He  sought  and  found  the  Islands  of  the  Blest. 
Where  weary  ones  find  everlasting  rest ; 
And  there  exults  beside  the  jasper  sea. 
.\nd  knows  the  bliss  of  immortality. 

Lament,  my  country,  for  an  honored  son. 
.-\nd  \et  rejoice  o'er  him  whose  race  is  run 
And  nobly  ended :  his  is  the  reward 
Of  thy  fiill  approbation  and  regard. 
l"or  tliec  he  bore  the  statesman's  heavy  load, 
For  thee  he  journeyed  far  upon  the  road 
Of  truth  and  duty,  and  in  honor  sleeps. 
While  gratitude  unending  vigil  keeps. 


82 


'ft 


(Hirr  JRarqniB  of  9aliBbuir» 

He  sleeps,  the  Empire's  faithful  guardian  sleeps, 

Where,  after  fifty  years  of  arduous  toil, 

The  burden  of  responsibility 

Forever  is  laid  down,  and  rest  comes  late, 

But  sure  and  welcome  in  the  quiet  grave. 

We  do  remember  him  in  other  days. 

When  Dritain  and  the  world  his 'guidance  had, 

How  faithfully  and  slceplessly  he  watched 

Upon  the  bridge,  when  plunged  the  ship  of  state 

Down  the  precipitous  and  treacherous  waves 

Which    threatened    rv.in  —  watched    as    slowlv 

C-rpt 
The  tardy  hours,  —  and  never  uttered  plaint ; 
But  like  the  noble  Briton  that  he  was. 
He  gave  himself  and  all  he  had,  to  do 
The  work  of  duty  fearlessly  and  bold 
And  out  of  chaos  ever  brought  again 
Security  and  order  to  the  State. 
Let  Britains  mourn  —  let  King  and  subject  bow 
In  attitude  of  sorrow  for  the  Dead, 
Who  being  dead,  yet  spcaketh  from  the  dust. 
O  England,  honor  him  who  was  thy  stay 
In  other  days  when  dangers  compassed  thee. 
Give  him  the  triple  honors,  give  him  place 
With  sage  and  hero;  and  in  aftcrtimes. 
When  children's  children  ask  what  means  th-- 

mound, 
Say,  Once  there  lived  a  Man,  —  and  here  he  lies. 


i 


I'i 


',\  'i 


83 


I 

1- 


■I 


Cimgfrllahi 

The   Star,  whose  modest   ray  in   fulness  shone 
Upon  the  Western  world,  at  last  is  set, 
And  on  th'  horizon's  cloudy  parapet 

Streamers  of  glory  play,  as  when  the  sun 

In  evening's  splendor  pours  his  beams  upon 
Some  ancient  dome,  whose  lofty  minaret. 
Bathed  in  th'  cthcrt-al  ray,  is  glorious  yet. 

Though  day  has  died,  and  darkness  hastens  on. 

On  either  shore  of  ocean  sighs  arc  breathed, 
And   sorrow    wakes,   as   though   a   cherished 
friend, 
In  life's  rough  strife  had  fallen  in  the  van ; 
But.  lo !  his  ashes  to  the  dust  bequeathed. 
Yet  unborn  millions  o'er  his  tomb  shall  l)eiiil, 
And  mark  where  sleeps  the  Poet  and  the 
Man ! 
1883. 


OIo  a  ditUb  Van 

WHO    DIED    TNAWCAl  l,V 


()  soul  so  sensitive!     ()  life  serene! 

O  brilliant  talents  nierfred  in  death's  eclipse' 
between  the  qinck  and  dead  now  intervene 

The  shadows,  waiting  Lie's  ai>ocalvpse. 

'Tis  not  for  us.  who  heard  his  i)erfc(t  lavs 
And  oft  were  gladdened  l>^  his  one  cheer  I'nor  - 

1"  speak  in  judgment,  and  nn  act  dispraise 
Which  One  shall  judge,  who  all  our  frailties 
bore. 

Yet  we  can  mourn,  as  now  indnd  we  do. 

The  loss  of  one  true  singer  fmm  earth's  choir 
I'or  m  the  music  of  the  gifted  few 

The  tones  are  silent  which  we  do  desire. 

.All!  silent  is  the  cadence  and  the  swell 
Of  sweetest   notes,   which   meni'rv   loves   the 
best: 

Grant  him.  O  Lord,  the  light  perpetual. 
And  mercy  fold  him  in  eternal  rest ! 


1 1 


85 


I 


MICROCOPY   RESOIUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  21 


1.0    If  IS  111^ 
I  1^  MM 


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ar^JS  Rochestef.    New   York  14609        USA 

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iiiaa  iEditii  fitri|arii8an 

She  is  not  dead,  whom  we  today 

Consigned  to  mother  eartli ; 
Her  happy  spirit  sped  away. 

When  the  decree  went  forth, 
That  she  should  join  the  happy  throng, 
Who  on  Mount  Zion  swell  the  song 
To  Him  whose  praise  attunes  each  tongue 

In  strains  of  noblest  worth. 

She  lives  the  higher,  fuller  life 

Where  all  her  varied  powers 
Of  soul  and  mind,  in  action  rife. 

Extol  her  God  and  ours : 
l'"rom  all  infirmity  set  free. 
In  glorious  inmiortality. 
She  lives  in  spotless  jjurity 

'Mid  never-fading  flowers. 

What  she  on  earth  had  hoped  to  be. 

What  she  had  longed  to  do  — 
But  hampered  by  infirmity, 

She  failed  the  long  years  through  — 
That  she  shall  do,  that  she  shall  be. 
.Since  death,  the  last  dread  enemy. 
Is  swallowed  up  in  victory. 

And  all  things  now  are  new. 

She  lives  the  life  triumphant  now 

In  that  celestial  sphere, 
Where  God  Himself  from  every  brow 

Shall  wipe  away  the  tear. 
Until  the  Easter  morning  break. 
When  dust  and  ashes  shall  awake, 
And  soul  and  body  shall  partake 

The  bliss  beyond  compare. 


86 


^    '    ; 


pnrau  fflljirfla  Cjiriria 


Hi 


ill 


\l 


f ' 


Ill 


li  ll 


II:        ! 


ffiiir  *Ijamrork 

I"  llu-  Kar.kn  (,f  life  there  arc  daisies  atui  pansies 
And  roses  and  lilies,  all  fragrant  and  fair ; 

And  Love  wanders  thither,  elated  with  fancies, 
lo  find  what  is  brightest  and  loveliest  there. 
In  a  nook  all  secluded, 
Where  shadows  long  brooded 

And  scarcely  the  si-nbeams  till  eventide  fall. 
He  finds  there  nprearing 

-n      ,  ''^''''  ^'i:i"""ock  of  Erin, 

I  he  dearest  .it  flowerets,  and  brightest  of  all. 

Oh  the  green  little  Shamrock,  so  timidiv  growing 
Ap.-irt  from  the  flow'rs  more  resplend'ent  in  hue,' 
A  spdl  oer  the  garden  is  silently  throwing. 
And  Love  panses  there  in  the  shadows  and  dew. 
In  that  nook  imfrcqiiented, 
Ry  roses  unscented, 
W  here  sinibeains  and  shadows  alternatel>-  fall. 
He  finds  there  nprearing 
The  Shamrock  of  Erin, 
The  dearest  of  flowerets,  and  brightest  of  all. 


ili*' 


89 


'I-    ! 


Aa  (Elinga  tl|r  iLnt 

As  clings  the  tree  to  the  nioinitaiii  side. 

When  autumn  winds  sweep  the  foliage  down, 

So  clings  my  heart  to  the  one  who  died 
A  living  death  in  the  sad  old  town. 

The  kisses  she  gave  and  the  words  she  spoke 
Are  never  forgotten  from  day  to  day ; 

And  the  love  of  all  loves,  which  then  awoke. 
Shall  live  till  the  heavens  shall  pass  away. 

Oh,  that  wondrous  love  which  then  awoke 
O'erwhelms  me  still  in  its  surging  tide ; 

And  the  kisses  she  gave  and  the  words  she  spoke 
Bring  dreams  of  heav'n,  since  my  darling  died ! 


m   ^ifou  to  ffliiam  i9Ig  WlBlfes  Mom 

O!  thou  to  whom  my  wishes  flow. 

As  flows  the  river  to  the  sea, 
Whate'cr  I  am,  where'er  I  gc. 
Thy  love,  of  all  things  else  below, 
Is  life's  most  precious  gift  to  me ! 

Oh !  turn  again  thy  face  to  me. 

And  let  me  press  that  lip  once  more ; 

I  still  am  thine,  I  still  can  see 

The  evidence  of  love  in  thee. 
And  I  —  yes,  I  can  still  adore. 

Within  my  arms  the  world  I  hold. 
And  heaven  can  give  no  greater  joy ; 

Life,  with  its  blessings  manifold. 

Grows  young  again,  though  time  is  old. 
And  love  exchanges  sigh  for  sigh. 


90 


N      ''  :■ 


'^'t'"7,''f'^/^'«''"t'  nothing  Vcft  of  tluc  ; 

I  o  live  I  must  tliv  low  possess 
And  then  the  world  shall  Ik'  tu  me' 
'    J'aradise,  and  I  shall  he 

The  object  of  thy  dear  caress. 

And  so  onr  blended  lives  shall  grow 

In  blissfid  bonds  divinclv  f ree  ■ 
And  I  the  bliss  of  bliss  shall  know 
And  every  wish  to  thee  shall  flow. 
As  tlows  the  river  to  the  sea ! 

Ctkp  a  8«am  of  tljp  JJfigJjt 

Like  a  dream  of  the  night,  when  the  lilac  in  bloom 

bheds  Its  pcrfnme  abroad  on  the  air 
iler  sweet  presence  comes  in  the  shadows  and 
gloom. 

To  turn  me  from  sorrow  and  care  ■ 
And  she  seems  to  be  with  mc  in  kindness  and  love 

Like  an  angel  to  guard  mc  from  ill  • 
Oil,  sweet  is  the  thought,  that  at  everv  remove 

Her  spirit  is  true  to  me  still ! 

And  still  may  that  presence  be  ever  my  stav 

Wherever  mv  fortune  is  cast ; 

'^'\l  f.™  "f  ^?^  conflicts,  by  night  and  bv  dav, 

i  ill  life  s  final  conflict  is  past  ■ 
^'^?/''?  ,i"  ^^^  ''^'"  of  "i*^  'a"'l  of  the  blest 
^xr^^     ,      ""^'^'  '"  "i="  glorified  throng. 
Where  the  sad  shall  rejoice,  and  the  wlarv  shall 
rest, 

And  love  be  the  theme  of  each  song. 


(  ■ 


■ill 


I 


If  Wt  diimtUi  Mttt 

If  wc  should  niet't  without  tlcsigu, 

Brought  face  to  face  some  future  day, 
As  formerly,  when  you  were  mine, 
What  would  we  say? 

If  I  could  feci  your  trusting  hand 

Clasp  mine  again  the  same  old  way, 
As  when  we  seemed  to  understand. 
What  would  you  say? 

And  standing  thus  in  attitude 

Of  friends  who  long  had  bid  adieu. 
Restored  again  to  friendly  mood. 
What  would  1  do? 

Oh !   I  should  clasp  you  to  my  breast, 
And  tell  once  more  my  love  to  you  ; 
And  that  is  what,  I  do  protest, 
I'd  sav  and  do! 


r, 


9» 


(I    ■ 


(Dl?.  Wl\a  iLifst  ifOB  Snnbtn 

'  "l'..?'.'",'  ''''"  ''''^  kiiouii  llic  ivstiitic  finoiioii 
VVliich  oiius   wIk'11  our  lips  lo  anotlnr's  arc 
pressed, 
Would  sigh   for  more  plfasiirc.  on  land  or  on 
ooi'aii. 
In  the  north,  in  the  south,  in  the  cast,  or  the 
west .' 
Give  me  back,  give  me  back  the  embraces  and 
kisses. 

Which  thrilled  me  w  ith  bliss  but  a  twelvemonth 
ago; 
.-\nd  I'll  ask  for  no  more  in  a  world  such  as  this  is. 
Where  true  love  anil  woman  are  all   i   would 
know. 

To  my  breast  as  I  clasped  her  and  kissed  her  at 

parting, 
Our  souls  were  commingled,  our  hearts  were 

made  one ; 
And  anguish,  though  keen,  became  softened ;  for 

darting 
Through  dark  clouds  came  hope  like  a  beam  of 

the  sun. 
And  though  sad  be  my  lot.  let  me  hope  for  such 

kisses 

As  thrilled  me  with  bliss  but  a  twelvemonth 
ago; 
And  I'll  ask  for  no  more  in  a  world  such  as  this 

Where  true  love  and   woman  are  all  I  would 
know. 


93 


H 


rV  < 


What  sMiisliinf  _  what  sunshine  she  broiiL'hl  to 

my  Hfo. 
When  cloud-  were  prowii  dark,  and  the  winds 

were  at  strife: 
Iter  sweet  benedictions  caine  down  on  tnc  then 
Like  the  breathing  of  angels  to  cheer  me  again.' 

And  day  after  day,  as  the  months  sped  along. 
My  heart  danced  with  jov,  and  niv  voice  waked 

m  song ; 
Her  goodness,  her  gentleness  soothed  jiic  to  rest 
And  I  sank  to  repose  liKe  a  child  on  the  breast.  ' 

How  kind  was  her  i^rescnce  whenever  \vc  met  ■ 

Twas  a  foretaste  of  heav'ti  which  1  cannot  for- 
get— 

Oh!  her  sweet  benedictions  came  down  on  me 
then, 

Like  the  breathing  of  angels  to  cheer  me  again. 

ulljp  iSnotti  i;aa  (dome  Again 

The  snow  has  cotnc  again,  and  winter  reigns ; 

O'er  forest,  field,  and  flood. 
The  pallid  whiteness  covers  hill  an<l  plains 

In  death's  similitude. 

Months  twenty-four  have  passed  since  vou  and  I 

Were  driven  like  the  snow 
By  passion's  whirlwinds  here  and  there  on  high, 

To  find  a  vale  below. 

But  spring  is  coming,  though  so  far  away 
The  bright  glad  sun  ai)pears, 


94 


\ii        I'hvrsnv.r  hill  aiwl  dale  shall  play 
I  111-  iM'lc  iii-i   .Ji'  the  years. 

C.MiraKr    ,ka.    luarl.   ,•,.,.!   |„k-   th..   s,„„„l,k.rin.v 
lU'artli  "^ 

Willi  fuel  Vaiiist  tho  i-oM, 
I  m.l  ll.r  siinus  have  .mlleil.  and  the  earth 
Shall  hlds-imi  as  nf  i)|,| 


O  lovt.l  an.l  adore.l  heycKl  all  thinp.  helow 
<)  hoped  lor  and  lonj^^e,!  f„r  in  weal  an.l  i„  w.,e  • 
At  nmrinny:.  and  iKKJiiday,  an,l  eveniti^  I  turn    ' 
To  the  place   uliere   niy  life's  star  conti„Mes   to 
hum. 

The  clouds  may  co.ne  forth,  and  the  storms  mav 

prevail, 
lint  the  tremnlous  lisht  of  nn  star  shall  not  fail  • 
t  leads  me,  ,t  frnides  me,  it  cheers  me.  uhon  life' 
Is  darkest,  aiul  storm-winds  and  clouds  are  at 

^^"drea?"'  ^°'  "'""  '"■'*^'""^'^''  t''^'  ''^'sc"  were 

^^"^ear"°'  ^"'  "'"'"  ""'"^'""=''-  ""  P^''^  '^'"^"■'l  ap" 
l^ut  onward  I  jonrney.  all  doubtfulness  past 
l-or  I  know  that  the  liRht  shall  be  mine  to  the  last. 


'I 


14^ 


'  ii 


95 


t' 
!  1 


iiil^ 


i'1 


I 


31  fin<uiir&  Alniig  a  Drrani  Vat| 

I  ni.iMiiil  aloti;;  a  drrarv   wa\. 

Willi  lur  •  and  ilicii  a  iloucr : 
And  wi-ary  liffV  lucldiidiil  dav 
__(jrc\v  darkrr  hour  In  hour. 

'rilcn   till'   fl'W   ^tat■^.   wilicil   ^|K)IH'  awliili' 
l.iki'  beacons  ein  >cinu'  riK'l<\   isle. 
I.ixik-ed  coldly  on  a  cold  world's  sinili- — 
M.v  only  wialtli  and  doucr. 

Unl  siidiknly  tlic  sky  !,'reu   Ijrijfht, 

The  sliadows  passed  .iwas. 
A  star,  upon  tin-  ver^e  of  nii^du, 

-Shone  lo  the  perfect  da\  : 
F  waked  as  from  a  troubled  dream. 
.And  marked  the  pure,  nncliangins;  beam, 
Which  calmly  sank  in  life's  <leep  stream. 
And  blended  with  its  s])ra\. 

(Ml,  still  that  star  is  seen  above 
Where  other  stars  had  shone  — 

The  worshiped  idol  o'  my  love. 
.And  all  the  rest  are  Kone. 

It  guides  nie  with  its  tender  lifrht 

jieyond  the  confines  of  the  night 

To  love's  own  empyreati  height. 
Where  darkness  is  unknown. 


|i 


Parinn,  Ms  Eobf,  an  Erring  <i)m 

I'ardon.  my  love,  an  erring  one, 

Whose  tronbled  heart,  to  madness  driven, 
Xow  sinks  in  woe,  then  dwells  upon 
Despair  and  anguish,  and  alone 

In  desolation  pleads  with  Heav>'n. 


[H 


lli'Mi  vvhoha.t  1,1,  M  with  Inv.   .„„i|,cacv 

.\ly  lam  ly  lit, ,  rvhuUv  IIU'  not  ■ 
"II !   I>t  till'  \vor,U,,f  ansiiri'  a;,M' 
And  Kuc  my  lr<„il,l,,|  .,„„1  r,.|,.as,. 
I- nun  all  tliis  vain,  mrnirlinir  t||„„fr|,i 

l'l'''ti  1..1MM.  ami  thou  ainiu  ,,,iist  ch.rr 
Aiwl  th.ni  aloTU'  can^t  MwjtiR.  mv  pain 


'»  love!   it  ,|i,th  tint  vrt  a|i|«,'at- 
What  it  will  hr  I,    hav,   tlur  mar 
And  ncvvr.  lUi.,  part  asaiii. 


pain  : 


9ar  Afaa.M 

Whfii  thi'  twili^fht  .low.s  ar<>    allniL' 

.^ottly  oVr  tin   spri'adinj; 
Ami  till-  h(>ni>  .,|-  ,lflaml.  c  .,injr 

Wake  thiir  woodlainl  nidodv 
Hopctid,  and  yet  half  forsaken'. 

Thus  1  sit  at  cins,'  of  ilav, 
U  hile  the  tchws  tli.it  awaken 

Sccin  to  tell  thon'r'  far  aua>. 

Deeper  fall  the  sliailows  o'er  me 

Sadder  sighs  the  evenin.;  hreeze  • 
Hopes  and  faneies  llii  before  nie, 

Ronsing  distant  mmiories; 
While  the  echoe...  risinfj,  fallin^j  — 

Dirges  of  the  dving  dav  — 
Seem  to  he  thine  accents  calling 

Softly,  sadlv.  far  awav. 


»■ 


97 


Waiting 

I  am  waiting,  only  waiting, 

Till  the  darker  hours  are  gone. 
While  impatience,  imabating. 

Spurs  the  slow  hours  creeping  on. 
I  am  musing,  only  musing. 

O'er  the  clays  that  are  to  be, 
A'hI  with  anxious  eye  perusing 

Life's  sad  pages  turned  by  me. 

I  am  clinging,  only  clinging 

To  the  hope  for  other  days, 
When  the  muse  shall  wake  in  singing 

To  rehearse  the  nobler  lays. 
1  am  sighing,  only  sighing. 

To  the  night  winds  as  they  cree]> 
( )'er  the  living  and  the  dying. 

When  the  world  is  hushed  in  sleep. 


,■ 


i'\. 


I'i 


To  love  and  to  be  loved  is  more 
Than  all  the  other  bliss  in  store 

For  us  in  this  dark  world  and  wide ; 
And  those  caresses  in  the  night. 
When  kisses  melt  and  eyes  grow  bright 

Take  note  of  neither  time  nor  tide. 

There  is  a  witchery  in  lov". 
When  all  the  host  of  heaven  above 

Is  marshaled  forth  in  bright  array ; 
Then  Anna  answers  my  caress, 
And  in  a  long  deep  kiss  I  press 

The  lips  which  coyly  mocked  by  day. 


^i-li 


98 


(Ram  fiark  Srmn  tlf»  Jiiatlanli 

Come  back  from  the  mistland,  inspire  me  again 
With  the  brightness  which  follows  the  clouds  and 

the  rain : 
Let  the  azure  and  gold  in  effulgence  return. 
And  the  glory  appear  which  should  brighten  the 

norn. 

There's  a  hue  on  the  mountain  dispelling  the 

night. 
There's  a  shade  in  the  valley  absorbing  the  light, 
There's  a  cloud  which  is  bright 'ning  in  splendor, 

and  high 
Is  the  rainbow  of  hope  which  is  spaiming  the  sky. 

Come  back  to  me,  then,  in  the  azure  and  gold 
Of  the  morning  of  life,  when  the  blossoms  unfold  : 
And  the  mountain  shall  gleam,  and  the  valley  shall 

glow, 
And  the  cloud  shall  be  bright  o'er  the  shadows 

below. 


i 


99 


t 


iv 


hi 


In  the  garden  of  life,  where  the  beams  fell  in 
brightness, 
My  Shamrock  was  sweetest  of  all  that  was 
there ; 
And  my  breast  swelled  with  pride  and  my  heart 
danced  in  lightness, 
To  see  Erin's  Shamrock  resplendent  and  fair ; 
And  the  bright  flower  adorning 
The  garden,  as  morning 
Expanded  each  leaf  while  the  zephyrs  went  by, 
And  I  pressed  the  sweet  blossom 
In  love  to  my  bosom. 
And  cared  for  naught  else  that  was  fair  to  the  eye. 

But  a  blast  from  the  desert  swept  ruthlessly  over 
The  flow'r  of  my  hope  and  the  pride  of  my 
breast ; 
And  the  storm-cloud  rolled  on  in  its  darkness  to 
cover 
The  garden  of  life  where  my  floweret  I  pressed  ; 
And  my  Shamrock  —  that  morning 
The  garden  adorning  — 
Lies  prostrate  in  dust  as  the  zephyrs  go  by ; 
And  no  more  to  my  bosom 
I  press  the  sweet  blossom. 
Which  droops  in  the  garden  to  wither  and  die. 


I        '■ 


BallaH 

Oh  that  the  day  might  be  restored  when  first  I 

saw  thy  face ; 
Though  deep,  dark  shadows  round  us  ckmg,  a 

brightness  seemed  to  chase 
The  melting  gloom,  and  as  I  felt  the  softening 

flame  of  love 
Burn  in  my  soul,  thou  scemedst  then  to  sanction 
and  approve. 

Ah !   lovers'  dreams  are  only  dreams  ;  not  yet  the 

perfect  day 
Has  gilded  life's  sublimest  heights,  nor  lit  the 

lowly  way ; 
Not  yet,  alas !  not  yet  the  eye  is  blest  with  perfect 

sight. 
And  what  may  seem  the  brightest  star  may  be  a 

meteor's  light. 

'Tis  well,  for  'twas  too  bright  with  hope,  that  first 

and  tender  dream, 
'Twas  far  too  pure  for  earthly  love  which  hopes 

to  win  esteem ; 
Xow   many-tinted   hues   float  o'er   life's   varied 

page,  and  then 
I  read  the  book  of  life,  which  tells  such  dreams 

com'"  not  again. 


'^J 


I'i 


i, 


w, 


MmtiUmam  l^otmB 


I? 


A  man  of  a  (1;iiitii1css  spirit  a  Ihto  of  ilcallilcss 

faiiu'. 
Who  ri-joiccd  in  the  day  of  haltlo  in  the  pride  of 

the  Britisli  name : 
^'et.  dreading  the  tongue  of  slander  and  the  vid- 

gar  sting  of  si)ite, 
He  fell  in  a  frenzied  moment,  and  is  cold  in  his 

grave  tonight. 

From  lowly  life  uprising  to  a  glorious  height,  he 

stood 
In   his  panoply  of  honor   'mid  envv's  crawling 

brood ; 
He  liad  braved  the  death-winged  tempest  on  many 

a  well-fought  field. 
To  fall  at  last  by  the  weapon  which  onlv  himself 

dare  wield. 

'Twas  madness,  you  say?  .\y!  madness,  which 
only  the  true  man  feels. 

When  over  his  glorious  record  a  wave  of  oblivion 
steals, 

And  drowns  for  a  moment  the  mem'rv  of  im- 
mortal deeds,  whose  fame 

Resounded  o'er  land  and  ocean,  linked  with  his 
honored  name. 

O  Britain,  thy  sons  are  many,  but  thy  heroes  are 

the  few, 
And  the  valiant  and  the  fearless  have  still  a  work 

to  do; 
There  are  foes  to  be  met  and  vanquished,  there 

are  fights  to  be  fought  and  won. 
But  tonight  the  grave  encloses  the  form  of  thy 

bravest  son  I 


los 


. 


1' 


1 1 


Had  the  .shield  of  a  kind  protection  heen  accorded 

to  thy  son 
In  the  day  when  the  toiijjue  of  .■.lander  the  ear  of 

attention  won. 
He  had  shamed  the  crawling  reptiles,  that  could 

only  hiss  and  bite. 
And   Scotland   shoidd  not   he   weeping  o'er  his 

lonely  grave  tonight. 

But  thy  great  ones  stood  unheeding,  or  aided  the 

tragic  play, 
And  the  hand  which  could  have  succored  was 

waving  him  away. 
In  all  thy  boasted  greatness,  how  cold  was  tin 

love  for  him, 
Who  never  had  let  thy  glory  nor  thy  star  of  hope 

grow  dim. 

Alas  for  the  fate  of  heroes  who  unselfishly  pursue 
The  path  of  manly  duty  —  with  uo  other  aim  in 

view ! 
Macdonald  thus  fought  ever  for   Britain,  and 

truth,  and  right  — 
And  a  hero's  hopes  lie  withered  in  Macdonald's 

grave  tonight. 


t'R 


to6 


BttuOhe 

How  peaceful  is  tlif  oveiUido, 
When  all  the  hurry  of  the  clay. 

And  pain  and  labor,  thrust  aside. 
In  softcninff  visions  fade  away. 

Then  far  removed  from  haunts  of  care. 

Far  from  the  busy,  restless  thronR. 
Ev'n  like  a  bird  upon  the  air. 

The  mind  pursues  its  way  along. 

Here  castles  rise  on  hallowed  ground, 
There  mystic  kingdoms  come  to  view  ; 

And  merry  laughter  rings  aroim<l 
The  halls  which  fancy  wanders  through. 

Forms  there  appear,  not  all  unknown, 
And  answering  eyes  flash  back  the  light, 

Which  guides  our  bounding  footsteps  on 
Beyond  the  confines  of  the  night. 

Again,  commingling  with  the  past. 

We  feel  the  love  of  long  ago, 
Whose  golden  sunbeams  seem  to  cast 

A  brightness  over  all  below. 

And  I  have  wandered  thus  afar 

O'er  many  scenes  of  fantasy. 
And  felt,  beneath  my  guiding  star, 

That  life  was  joyous,  full,  and  free. 

Oh !  ever  thus  at  eventide 

Let  cares  be  numbered  with  the  day ; 
While  pain  and  labor,  thrust  aside. 

In  softening  visions  fade  away. 


'fP 


107 


'V 


If 


I 


Hnatittmiatrii 

'I'lic  aiitiiinn  tints  are  Iniriiisliiiij^ 

The  myriad  forest  trees ; 
The  garden  flow'rs  no  longer  fling 

Their  fragrance  on  the  breeze ; 
The  pomp  and  splendor  of  the  vear 

Are  changing  to  decay ; 
For  summer  suns  no  longer  cheer 

The  garniture  of  day. 

Alas!  we  value  not  the  hues 

Which  deck  the  \voo<lland  wide ; 
Nor  heed  the  flow'rs.  whose  bloom  profuse 

Glows  bright  on  every  side, 
L'ntil  the  changing  season  brings 

Destruction  in  its  breath, 
And  all  of  beauty's  garnishings 

Go  down  to  dusty  death. 

And  so  of  those  who,  side  by  side, 

Toil  with  us  day  by  day, 
Whose  willing  hearts  have  been  employed 

To  help  us  on  our  way : 
Not  till  the  kindly  hands  are  gone 

Do  we  their  worth  approve, 
And  own  how  nobly  they  have  done 

The  proffered  work  of  love. 


108 


Qlirr  €lptrclr  tai  tlfr  Vrat 

Written  by  request  for  The  Church  Record,  the 
official  organ  of  the  Diocese  of  Minnesota. 

Where  savage  and  beast  in  the  wilderness  wan- 
dered, 
Froi"  ages  primeval  nnnumbercd  by  years, 
Will       chaos  and  darkness  had  planted  their 
standard, 
And  hope  gave  no  ray,  and  affection  no  tears, 
There  is  gentleness  now,  and  to  fierceness  cessa- 
tion. 
And  order  and  light  o'er  the  regions  attest 
The  day-spring  of  promise,  the  newer  creation, 
From  the  patience  and  toil  of  the  Church  in  the 
West. 

And  the  wealth  of  the  soil,  of  the  mine,  and  the 
forest. 
Unknown  till  the  light  of  the  Gospel  had  come. 
Is  manifest  now,  where  oppression  was  sorest. 
And  progress,  anil  plenty,  and  peace  had  no 
home ; 
And  cities  arise,  as  by  magic  created. 

Trade,  commerce,  and  enterprise,  ever  in  quest 
Of  greater   achievements,   where   patience   long 
waited, 
.Show  forth  what  has  followed  the  Church  in 
the  West. 

Shall  opulence  flourish,  unaiding  and  callous 

To  that  which  is  honest,  and  upright,  and  just? 
Shall  Mammon  fare  sumptuous  in  mansion  and 
palace. 
While  Christ  and  His  Church  are  prostrated  in 
dust? 


109 


Let  progress  rrimnibir,  ami  iiitrrprlso  clu-risli 
The  Source  of  all  good  to  a  region  so  blest , 

It  must  still  be  abiding,  it  never  can  perish  — 
The  record  achieved  bv  the  Church  in  the  West. 


9atia.  (tarn* 

Papa  will  come  to  his  l)oy  tonight, 

Papa  will  come  to  his  boy ; 
For  the  dear  voice  calls,  and  the  shadowy  walls 

Are  telling  that  Dreamland  is  nigh. 
Borne  like  an  angel  voice  to  me 

In  the  early  twilight  gloom, 
I  hear  from  my  boy  the  witching  cry : 
"  Papa,  come !  " 

Musing,  I  think  what  a  void  would  be 

In  my  heart  and  home  tonight 
If  my  boy  were  gone,  and  I  alone 

Should  sit  in  the  waning  light ; 
I  dare  not  picture  wl.at  life  would  be, 

What  shadows  should  darken  home, 
Could  I  hear  no  more  the  soft  voice  implore : 
"  Papa,  come  I  " 


9amttal  Cabr 

What  liive  is  like  a  parents  for  a  cliil.l  -- 
A  fond,  frail  child  that  moi-.i.s  to  coiiipriht-ml 
Otir  heart's  anxiety,  and  wouh'  forefend 

The  dread  forel)0<HnRs  of  a  hope  despoiled  ? 

There  is  no  love  so  pure  and  undefiled. 
So  holy  in  its  essence;  and  its  trend 
To  one  divinely  constituted  end 

Is  like  a  cheering'  stream  through  wood  and  wiliV 

How  desolate  is  hearth  and  home  at  last, 
When  love's  frail  ituuKent  is  liara'sed  sore 
With  torture  and  disease,  and  would  implore 

Our  kindly  offices,  while  love,  aRhast. 

Stands  helpless  to  relieve,  and  hopes  aim  .'e.irs 

Contend  for  mast'rv  in  a  rain  of  tears. 


^Ift  Sabg  of  our  ^om 

'Tis  worth  the  labor  and  the  toil, 

Which  day  b\-  da\-  he  makes. 
To  see  our  little  tvrant  smile, 

When  from  his  sleep  lie  wakes. 
A  ray  of  sunshine  is  his  l(K)k. 

Where'er  his  eyes  ina\  roam 
In  quest  of  toy  or  picuire  hook  — 

The  baby  of  our  home. 

The  wealth  of  Ormus  or  of  [nil 

Were  but  a  pauper's  fee 
To  purchase  him,  who  never  sinn(  d 

Against  sweet  charity. 
Xot  kingly  crown  or  diadem. 

Since  days  of  ancient  Rome. 
Would  we  accept  for  our  bright  gem  - 

The  babv  of  our  home. 


\i 


I  i 


3ft  lliglit  ^ai>t  Vrnt 

It  might  have  been  !    Oh !  words  of  pain, 
Which  mem'ry  muses  o'er  in  vain.  — 
Words  which  regretfully  recall 
A  dream  of  love  —  and  that  is  all ! 
'Tis  past  —  'tis  gone,  forever  gone. 
And  yet  the  mem'ry  lingers  on. 
And  darkens  all  the  after  years 
With  clouds  of  grief  and  rain  of  tears. 
As  when  the  autumn's  golden  light 
Is  merged  in  winter's  blast  and  blight. 
What  might  have  been !    What  lasting  bliss ! 
What  hopes  fulfilled!     What  happiness! 
Had  only  Heav'n  the  way  made  plain 
In  days  which  cannot  come  again. 
But  vain  is  now  the  deep  regret. 
We  dreamed,  we  hoped,  we  longed,  we  met, 
But  oh !   too  late  —  alas !   too  late, 
When  life  had  wooed  another  fate. 
And  won  the  good  at  which  it  aimed. 
With  heart  rejecting  what  it  claimed. 
It  might  have  been !  Come,  stolid  life. 
In  all  thy  moods  of  hidden  strife ; 
Come,  thwarted  love,  intense  and  sad, 
While  all  around  is  bright  and  glad ; 
Let  earth's  bereaved  affections  prove 
The  saddest  thing  is  blighted  love ! 
Draw  down  the  curtain  on  the  scene  — 
Alas !   for  life  —  it  might  have  been ! 
It  might  have  been !    I  thrill  —  I  wake ; 
Another  day  begins  to  break. 
Another  day  of  deeper  gloom 
Than  that  which  heralded  the  doom  — 
In  shadows  dark  and  prospects  void  — 
Of  him  who  loved,  and  her  who  died. 
A  mist  arises  from  the  lake  — 


A  boding  mist,  a  darkling  cloud. 
As  on  the  beach  the  billows  break 

In  fate-presaging  tumult  loud ; 
And  far  away  as  eye  can  sec. 
The  storm-c'oud  sweeping  t'ward  the  lot 
Obscures  the  waste  of  rolling  waves. 
Which  tell  of  seamen's  lonely  graves ! 
Upon  the  prospect  o'er  the  lake 
A  dismal  light  begins  to  break 
And  shape  weird  letters  o'er  the  scene. 
In  words  of  doom  —  It  might  have  been ! 

I  turn  to  leave  the  cheerless  sight. 
And  face  the  regions  of  the  light. 
Where  high  in  heav'n  the  glorious  sun 
The  zenith  of  his  course  has  won. 
The  groves  arc  vocal  —  hill  and  dale 

Are  radiant  in  the  brightening  glow  ; 
And  creatures,  who  would  'veep  and  wail. 

See  nothing  kindred  in  their  woe. 
The  .sky  is  clear,  the  world  is  glad, 
And  nature,  in  bright  mantle  clad. 
Rejoices  over  land  and  sea. 
And  all  things  whisper  —  We  are  free. 

But,  hush !  a  voice  is  heard  in  wonls 
Attuned  to  no  /Eolian  chords ; 
And  all  the  gorgeous  pomp  of  dav. 
And  all  things  joyous  pass  awa\- ! 
Gloom  shadows  all  the  mystic  land. 
Deep  darkness  reigns  on  every  baud. 
As  when  the  hurricane  breaks  forth 
In  sudden  gloom  upon  the  earth ; 
And  from  the  horrid  darkness  comes 
A  voice  of  words  like  funeral  drums. 
Which  break  in  tumult  on  my  ear. 
And  tell  me  what  1  wou'd  not  hear  — 
A  talc  of  joyless  hope  and  trust. 
Which  sought  felicity  in  dust, 


fl 


I 


I « 


l> 


I? 


Which  built  life's  house  upon  the  sand. 

By  rainbow  arch  of  teardrops  spanned. 

Then  in  the  gloom  the  words  are  heard, 

In  wails  of  woe  at  every  word. 

In  wails  of  woe  and  plaints  of  sin  — 

It  might  have  been!    It  might  have  been! 

A  Sfbrrtf 

Four  years  ago  today  wc  met. 

To  part  as  lo".  crs  part. 
And  feel  an  undefined  regret 

Abiding  in  the  heart. 
Where  passion,  like  a  ruthless  breeze. 
Which  shakes  the  blossoms  from  the  trees, 

.'Vwakeued  with  a  start. 
And  shook  and  swayed  us  here  and  there. 
As  if  we  had  been  gossamer. 

Since  then  we've  known  some  storm>-  days, 
And  nights  of  deepest  shade ; 

And  we  have  trod  through  many  a  maze 
Adown  the  darkened  glade : 

We've  felt  at  times  a  vague  regret 

(D'er  what  has  been  ;  and  yet  —  and  yet 
We  would  not  have  it  fade  — 

The  mem'ry  of  that  dream  of  bliss, 

Ecstatic  as  love's  virgin  kiss. 

We  know  not  what  may  be  iu  store 

.\  little  farther  on  : 
But,  oh!   in  days  which  are  no  more. 

.'\l  times  a  brightness  shone. 
A  brightness  which  was  so  intense 
The  clouds  by  contrast  seemed  more  dense 

Whene'er  the  flash  was  gone, 


114 


f 


As  lightnings  serve  to  emphasize 

The  storm-rack  sweeping  o'er  the  skies. 

And  yet  we  know  that  those  who  weep, 

And  those  who  laugh  and  sing, 
Shall  side  by  side  repose  in  sleep 

Where  peace  shall  fold  her  wing; 
And  all  ambition's  dreams  shall  come 
To  dust  and  ashes  in  the  tomb ; 

To  but  one  hope  we  cling, 
And  think  of  life  as  but  a  spark 
Which  trembles  upward  in  the  dark. 


ADbntt 

He  comes  who  on  His  natal  day 
Inglorious  in  a  manger  lay. 
Where  lowing  kine  were  first  to  sec 
God  clothed  in  meek  humanity. 

He  comes  who  trod  the  path  of  life 
'Mid  thorns  and  briars,  storm  and  strife. 
Whose  thoughts  were  pure,  whose  words  were 

kind, 
Whose  deeds  were  mercies  on  mankind. 

He  comes  whom  Judah's  rulers  bought. 
Whom  Herod's  soldiers  set  at  naught, 
Who  fiercely  scourged  and  mocked  by  turns, 
Endured  the  plat       crown  of  thorns. 

He  comes  who  agonizing  cried, 

The  Innocent,  the  Crucified. 

Who  on  Mount  Calvary's  awful  height 

Expired  while  heaven  was  veiled  in  night. 


'15 


He  comes,  but  now  a  dreadful  form 
Begirt  with  lightnings  and  with  storm, 
Before  whose  face,  whose  glance  before, 
The  heavens  depart  and  are  no  more. 

He  conies,  while  saints  aiid  angels  sing, 
Beholding  their  triumphant  King, 
Who  comes  to  bring  His  wanderers  home. 
And  even  so,  Lord  Jcsu,  come! 

A  Citony 

By  Thy  sighs  and  laniemalion. 
By  Thy  woes  and  desolation, 
By  Thy  deep  humiliation, 

XpitfTE    SXe'ljtfov. 

By  Thy  sorrows  unremitting. 
By  Thy  lowly  love,  befitting 
Thee  with  outcast  sinners  sitting, 

XplffTs    i\ir,(tfiv. 

By  Thy  tried  and  tortured  patience, 
Which  endured  man's  imprecations. 
By  Thy  great  commiserations, 

Xpiffrs    iXe»]tfOV. 

By  Thy  death  and  resurrection. 
Challeging  the  world's  affection. 
Raise,  oh !  raise  us  from  dejection, 

Xpiffrs   sXsTjtfov. 

By  Th_\-  mercy,  which  redoundeth 
To  our  profit,  and  aboundeth. 
While  the  song  of  triumph  sotmdoth. 
XplrfTe'  iXs'jjg'ov, 


Ii6 


A  Eitang 

When  the  morning  floods  the  sky, 
When  the  midday  sun  is  high, 
When  the  calm  of  eve  is  nigh, 
Hear  us,  Holy  Jesu. 

When  our  daily  task  begins, 
And  our  toil  its  guerdon  wins, 
Yet  despite  cr  many  sins. 
Hear  us.  Holy  Jesu. 

While  we  labor  to  acquire 
That  v'hich  perisheth,  inspire 
Something  nobler,  something  higher. 
Hear  us.  Holy  Jesu. 

And  when  ends  our  toil,  and  we 
Mingle  in  eternity. 
May  we  find  ourselves  with  Thee, 
Hear  us,  Holy  Jesu. 


If  ICnottt 

I  know  she  loves  me  best  of  all. 

And  that  for  me  alone 
The  smiles  awake,  the  teardrops  fall. 

As  joys  are  lost  or  won. 
I  know  she  can  not  prove  untrue. 

And  that,  for  weal  or  woe, 
She  shall  be  mine  to  dare  and  do 

God's  purpose  here  below. 

O  noble  heart  and  quenchless  soul. 

There  comes  a  brighter  day. 
When  adverse  waves  no  more  shall  roll. 

N'or  dav-beams  fade  awav ; 


And  in  that  day,  so  bright  to  me. 

She  shall  be  mine  alone, 
And  each  to  each  shall  dearer  be 

As  happy  days  roll  on! 

(To  a  leaittiful  Sntmm 

WITH   A  VOLUME  OF  THE  AUTHOR'S  POEMS 

0  fairest  of  women,  the  fairest 
That  ever  my  fancy  portrayed, 

Accept  this  slight  gift,  if  thou  carest 
For  aught  that  a  poet  hath  said ; 

Accept  it,  because  that  the  giver 

Has  learnt  from  thine  eloquent  eye, 

That  loveliness,  beauty,  and  favor 
Are  charms  which  lie  can  not  defy. 

Away  with  the  musings  of  sages! 
Away  with  the  moralist's  look! 

1  will  read  from  thy  wonderful  pages. 
Thou  living,  adorable  book! 

I-et  the  wisdom  of  Grecian  and  Roman 
Be  heard  from  the  lips  of  the  wise; 

But  teach  me  that  wisdom.  O  woman. 
Which  sparkles  in  eloquent  eves ! 


AUinr 

Alone  tonight?     Oh  !  not  alouc. 

While  mem'ry  true  to  me  remains; 
For  though  the  busy  crowd  be  gone, 

Sn  voice  in  solitude  complains. 

Tonight,  though  silence  reigns  supreme, 
And  solitary  hours  speed  on, 


I.I 


ii8 


Still  my  affection  loves  to  dream 
And  feel  that  I  am  not  alone. 

Has  not  thy  spirit  hovered  near. 
And  heard  I  not  that  voice  of  thine  ? 

I'ell  there  not  nnisic  on  mine  ear 
In  human  accents  half  divine? 

Alone?     How  can  I  be  alone. 

While  mem'ry  hoards  thee  as  a  gem, 
\\  hich  tcnderest  affection  won 

For  love's  immortal  diadem ! 


Jrotn  tforntt 

Al>    KONTiCM     llAXDl'CIA.M 

O  Fount  of  Banducia.  than  crystal  more  clear. 
Embellished    with    Howcrcts, '  and    worthy   of 
wine, 
Tomorrow   a   kid    thou'lt    receive,    which    shall 
wear 
Its  fresh-sprouting  horns,  as  it  hastens  to  join 
In  love  and  in  war,  but  in  vain :  for  the  blood 
Of  this  offspring  of  wantons  shall  crimson  thv 
flood. 

The  dogstar  can  pierce  not  thy  shade  when  he 

burns ; 
Thou  coolest  the  o.xen  fatigued  at  the  plow: 
And  thou  cheerest  the  flock  as  it  hither  returns. 
O  Fount,  that  shalt  yet  be  more  famous  than 

now; 
For  I'll  sing  of  the  oak.  which  throws  shadows 

below 
O'er  the  rock,  whence  thy  streams  prattle  down 

in  their  flow. 


"9 


Mi 


LIB.   in,  CAR.  IX 

Horace: 

While  I  was  loved,  nor  dared  to  know 

That  some  more  favored  youth  would  fling 
His  arm  around  thy  neck  of  snow. 
I  lived  more  blest  than  Persia's  King. 

Lydia: 

While  thou  hadst  not  another  flame. 
Nor  Chloe  thrust  thy  Lydia  forth, 
1,  Lydia,  was  of  greater  fame 
Than  Roman  Ilia,  queen  of  earth. 

Horace: 
The  Thracian  Chloc  rules  me  now. 

She's  skilled  in  music,  plays  upon 
The  harp  —  for  her  I'd  die.  I  vow. 

If  fate  but  spare  my  darling  one. 

Lydia : 
A  Thurian  youth  inflames  my  breast 

With  mutual  love,  for  whom  I'd  die  — 
Yes,  twice  I'd  die,  I  do  protest, 

If  fate  would  spare  my  darling  gut.  hoy 

Horace: 
What !   if  our  former  love  return. 

And  broken  ties  be  joined  once  more ; 
If  Chloe's  golden  hair  I  scorn. 
And  Lydia  find  an  open  door  —  ? 

Lydia : 
Though  he  be  fairer  than  a  star,  — 

Thou  light  as  cork,  fierce  as  the  sea. 
When  Adriatic  billows  war, 

With  thee  I'd  live,  I'd  die  with  thee ! 


CAR.   XXVI 

I  lately  lived  a  proper  one 
For  girls,  and  warred  with  timcli  renown  ; 
But  now  this  wall  which,  toward  the  morn. 
Guards  worshiped  Venus,  ocean  born. 
Shall  guard  my  weapons ;  here  I  lay 
My  lyre  discharged  from  warlike  fray ; 
Here,  here  lay  down  the  torch  apace. 
And  here  the  wrenching  irons  place. 
Here  lay  the  bows  which  shall  no  more 
Menace  the  strong,  resisting  door. 
O  Cypriari  Goddess  —  ruler,  too. 
Of  Memphis,  free  from  Thracian  snow. 
Lift  high  th'  avenging  lash  with  might, 
And  thou  the  haughty  Chloe  smite! 


inarniritg 

We  live,  we  love,  we  build  the  pile 
Of  life's  proud  fane,  which  is  to  be 

We  look  upon  our  work  and  smile 
In  dreams  of  sweet  complacency. 

But  lo!  th'  unerring  hand  of  truth 
Lays  all  our.  fabric  in  the  dust ; 

And  all  the  golden  age  of  youth 
Is  dedicate  to  moth  and  rust 


(DddWpfi 


firar  flr! 

I  have  kissed  lu-r  at  thr  throsholil.  in  the  kitchen, 
and  the  iillar, 
In  the  dining-room  and  parlor,  in  the  garret 
and  the  hall ; 
I  have  hngged  her  in  all  corners  in  an  ecstasv  to 
tell  her 
How  I  loved  her  and  adored  her,  as  the  dearest 
girl  of  all. 

And  she  kissed  me  —yes,  she  kissed  me  with  the 
sweetest  of  all  kisses. 
And  she  hugged  —  oh !   she  hugged  me  in  the 
dearest  sort  of  way  ; 
And  she  never  went  to  seek  me  that  she  ever 
nearly  missed  me, 
For  my  heart  would  beat  so  loudlv  that  she'd 
hear  it  rods  away. 

There's  a  good  deal  of  palaver  as  to  what  are  life's 
best  treasures. 
And  the  rabble  make  selection  as  to  what  thev 
think  is  bliss : 
But  give  me  my  Irish  \oruh  as  the  founuin  of 
all  pleasures, 
And  I'll  clasp  her  to  my  bosom,  and  I'll  lan- 
guish in  a  kiss. 


If  all  our  hugs  were  put  together. 
And  made  into  one  long,  fond  squeeze. 

Just  twenty  days  of  glorious  weather 
Would  be  the  sum,  dear,  if  you  please. 


125 


And.  oh!   to  seal  those  amorous  bhsses, 
I've  laid  upon  that  pretty  luouth 

Four  thousand  and  eight  hundred  kisses. 
And  still  1  languish  in  a  drouth. 

Vrag  (Haunty 

A  man  may  stay  in  County  Bray 

To  classify  the  stones  and  hills. 
And  measure  snow  when  tempests  blow, 

And  scold  at  grippe  and  other  ills : 
And  often  see  the  mercury 

Congealed  at  forty  odd  below ; 
But  oft  he'll  think  of  one  warm  brink. 

And  sometimes  thither  long  to  go. 

I've  trudged  about,  and  in  and  out 

This  desolate  and  bleak  domain. 
But  all  I've  found,  above  the  ground. 

Is  storm,  and  wind,  and  snow,  and  rain. 
Since  Noah's  flood  dropped  stone  and  mud 

From  Proton  up  to  Colpoy's  Bay. 
The  wildcat,  lynx,  and  skunk  that  stinks. 

Have  been  indigenous  in  Bray. 

I  wonder  why  men  wait  to  die 

In  such  an  uncongenial  spot, 
Where  nought  but  stones  can  shield  their  bones 

From  wind  and  weather  in  their  plot. 
There's  not  enough  of  soil  to  stuff 

Between  the  stones  and  fill  the  chinks : 
To  die  up  here  seems  mighty  queer. 

The  thought  produces  funny  kinks. 


II 
I 


126 


Bror  Mxstiftt  dlolony 

Dear  Mistlicr  Molony. 

My  CO.".   n.:l,i  ,Tony. 
Whose  poethi     kcni  hy  tlv     viiigs  av  tlie  pust, 

Yer  vrlco!iic  to  U'.:'.,c  nie 

From    llnaiius  Uia    o'ertakc  inc. 
And  sing  in  nn  em  ,;v  Hie  Iiarocs  we've  lost. 

Ye  liev  snnff  of  tlic  .Modder. 

Where  the  bastes  widoiit  fodder 
Bore  minerals  an'  .sogers  to  glory  or  death  ; 

An'  ye've  sung  av  the  hathen  — 

The   lioers  —  who  .stood  brathin' 
Their  threats  at  onr  boys,  who  were  hoiildin'  their 
breath. 

An'  ye've  snug  av  the  battles. 

An'  shields  made  av  wattles, 
(Or  maybe  'twas  swords  that  ye  snng  av  instead  I 

An'  my  heart  bate  wid  glor\ 

While  readin'  the  story 
Av  blood  an'  av  thnnder.  av  powtlicr  an'  lead. 

An'  1  think  as  I'm  readin'. 

How  pronil  I'd  be  leadin' 
The  parsons  to  glory  in  battle  array ; 

While  wid  prayin'  an"  preachin'. 

An'  croonin'  and  .schracbin', 
We  wonld  dhrive  all  the  divils  an'  hathen  away. 

So  here's  to  ye,  crony, 

Mavonrneen  Molony, 
May  bad  luck  fly  from  ye  an'  lave  ye  alone, 

Till  ye  sing  every  minute, 

Yer  sowl,  like  a  linnet. 
Not  av  foights  we  hev  lost,  but  av  foights  we  hcv 
won. 


"7 


An'  whin  we  arc  shlapin' 

In  marble's  covvltl  kapin', 
Or  maybe  in  dhirt  where  the  thistles  bloom  fine. 

Sure  the  people  will  say  thin : 

"  The  dhread  av  the  hathen 
Are  shlapin'  below  —  since  they  swung  in  the 
line." 


Sto  €l;arlfB 

You  are  twelve  months  old  today. 

And  we  bid  the  moments  stay 
Till  we  celebrate  the  wonderful  event 

With  an  extra  dish  of  pap, 

And  a  few  new  toys  to  rap. 
And   some  gaudy   clothes,   which   haven't   got   a 
rent. 

You  are  twelve  months  old,  my  boy. 
And  you've  given  me  some  joy. 

And  a  little  bit  of  troul'o.  maybe,  too; 
But  to  me  'tis  all  the  same. 
Sleeping,  waking,  wild,  or  tainc 

There  is  not  another  boy,  I  think,  like  you. 

You're  the  idol  of  my  life. 

And  the  girl  I  call  my  wife 
Is  as  much  enamored  of  you  as  myself : 

Yet  some  people,  whom  I  know. 

Think  you're  quite  a  perfect  show. 
Good  alone  at  breaking  crockery  and  delf. 

But  we  think  you  wondrous  wise. 
When  an  alley  twice  the  size 
Of  your  mouth  is  somehow   almost  swallowed 
down ; 

And  the  doctor  we  must  call 

128 


To  extract  the  fjlassy  ball, 
And   we  uondor  why  he  growls  and  dares   tn 
frown. 

And  wlun  llic  stones  and  chips 

( ict  w  ithin  yonr  rosy  lips. 
And  ) on  swallow  them,  and  then  hegin  to  kink. 

\\h\,  we  pace  the  floor  all  night, 

Witii  ,1  feeling  of  delight 
That  we'll  sonietinie  in  the  fntnre  get  a  wink 

I'.iit  when  the  morning  hreaks, 

.And  the  matin  hird  awakes, 
.\nd  yon  waken  with  the  hird  and  sweetlv  sunle. 

Then  we  ask  —  of  course  we  flo  — • 

If  another  hoy  like  yon 
(an  be  fomu!  in  all  the  place  for  main  a  mile. 

So  I  chant  for  yon  my  la\', 

i-'or  you're  twelve  months  old  toda\', 

.\nd  I  trust  you  will  not  take  it  quite  amiss. 
If  i  publicly  declare 
What  a  wondrous  hoy  you  are. 

And  affix  my  own  sign  manual  to  this. 


139 


fill 


!' 


Come  to  me,  my  English  Pur, 
With  vour  saiicv  Irish  nuig. 
Tell  nic  what  your  head  is  thinking, 
As  you  sit  there  sagely  winking : 
For  \ou  seem  to  be  so  wise. 
Trviiig  to  look  twice  your  size. 
That  Til  like  to  know  if  winking 
Is  an  evidence  of  thinking. 

"What  I'm  thinking  of,"  asks  I'ug, 
••  I  of  the  Hibernian  nnig? 
I  am  thinkhig  of  my  dinner. 
Just  like  any  other  sinner  ; 
For  I  have  a  hunger  pain 
In  mv  stomach  back  again ; 
I'ligs'  and  men  are  like  each  other 
Just  as  brother  is  like  brother. 

■■  Feed  me  well,  and  you  will  find 
That  I'm  of  a  (|uiet  mind, 
\oid  of  malice  or  contention. 
C.entle  as  a  church  convention ; 
I5ut  if  1  am  not  well  fed, 
lust  like  man,  I'll  wake  the  dead 
With  mv  howls  af,v.inst  the  sinner 
Who  would  cheat  me  of  my  dinner.' 

So  I  stroked  my  saucy  Pug, 
.\s  he  sat  there' grave  and  smug. 
With  his  tail  curved  up  so  neatly, 
.\nd  his  smile  difiuscd  so  sweetly ; 
And  I  thought  that  his  replies 
Were  both  orthodox  and  wise, 
Quite  enough  to  prove  that  winking 
Is  an  evidence  of  thinking. 


130 


(§tii.  Nnralf  Abie 

Och,  Norah  avic, 

An'  hev  ye  been  sick, 
Or  hev  ye  been  stharved  wid  the  cowUl  ? 

I  hev  waited  for  days, 

An'  now,  if  ye  plase, 
To  ax  for  a  letther  I'm  bould. 

It  need  not  be  long 

As  a  clargyman's  tongue, 
For  swatcness  is  judged  not  by  len'th ; 

For  a  wee  note,  och  hone. 

To  a  heart  that  is  lone. 
Would  give  sure  a  wake  bit  av  stren'th. 

So,  mavournin,  awake. 

An'  yer  dhramin'  forsake. 
An'  say  ye  are  livin'  or  dead ; 

An'  it's  joyful  I'll  be, 

Och,  Xorah  machree, 
To  hear  what  has  niver  been  said. 

'Tis  a  long  time  ago. 

As  the  almanacs  show. 
Since  I  sint  ye  a  letther  in  haste ; 

But  niver  a  word 

Of  reply  have  I  heard 
By  stameboat,  or  stamecars,  or  baste. 

An'  it's  lonesome  I've  got 
Wid  a  skullful  av  thought, 

But  niver  a  poipeful  av  news ; 

An'  it's  hard  on  my  health 
(Not  to  spake  av  my  wealth) 

To  be  dopin'  all  day  for  the  blues. 


«3' 


II 


Och,  Xorah  aroon, 

It's  ycrsclf  that  could  tune 

My  heart  into  song  wid  yer  charms, 
If  I  only  could  go 
To  the  place  tliat  I  know, 

An'  hould  ye  again  in  my  arms. 

But  if  I  can't  go 

To  the  place  that  1  kiinw. 
The  place  where  my  heart  is  tonight. 

Ye  can  write  me  sonic  day 

A  letther  to  say, 
That  my  bouldncss  is  proper  and  right. 

An'  whin  ye  hev  tuck 

Up  the  pen,  och,  good  luck 

To  the  hand  that  is  writin'  to  me ! 

That  same  hand  I  would  s(iuaze 
Were  I  there,  if  ye  plase, 

An'  pull  ye  once  more  on  my  knee. 


13a 


S'm  f&tfort  a  C^ttrr 

I'm  short  a  letter  —  what  that  means 
Is  subject  not  for  words,  hut  fcehng ; 

I'"or  ail  day  long  I  pass  through  scenes 
\Vl"-re  not  one  sunheani's  glint  is  stealing. 

There's  no  one  but  the  lover  knows 
How  much  to  MuUx-k*  he's  a  debtor, 

L'ntil  he  finds,  at  some  day's  close, 
He's  short  a  letter. 

"ris  not  that  we  e.xpect  a  check, 
(Jr  princely  gift,  or  special  ticket, 

\\  hen  we  so  .stretch  and  crane  our  neck 
When  waiting  at  the  P.  ( ).  wicket : 

It  is  that  we  expect  from  Her 

Something  we  prize  than  all  things  better. 

And  fee!  most  sad.  when  we  most  fear 
We're  short  a  letter. 

But  wisdom  says:   "  Possess  your  soul 
In  patience  —  it  may  come  tomornuv.  " 

Ay !    so  may  death,  meanwhile  the  goal 
Must  now  be  won  through  joy  or  soi"ro\\  : 

And  nothing  can  supply  the  want. 
When  our  Beloved  is  the  debtor. 

And  fails  to  write  us,  and  we  can't 
Receive  our  letter. 

It  seems  as  if  we  must  away, 

And  know  the  cause  of  her  condition  ; 
For  sure  she  must  be  ill,  and  may 

Be  needing  much  her  own  physician. 
Oh !   foolish  boy,  she'll  write  in  time. 

And  niake  you  feel  so  much  the  better. 
That  you'll  confess,  in  words  sublime, 
You've  got  your  letter. 


*.SiT  William  Mulock.  Fostmaster-GeDeral  of  Canada. 


210  lift  Slat  taxtif  9abanta 

The  earth  is  flat  —  that's  flat ! 

The  foolish  Galileo  said  it  iiiovcd, 
.Vnd  Newton  said  a  great  deal  more  than  that, 

And  tried  to  prove  it,  and  some  think  he  proved 
That  it  is  round  and  turns  upon  its  axis 
As  surely  as  we  have  to  i)ay  our  taxes. 
I5ut  those  old  fogies  live<l  so  long  ago, 

Ere  telegrams  were  sent  through  wireless  air, 
That  \vc  are  not  such  fools  as  to  forego 

Our  private  speculations  everywhere. 
The  earth  is  flat  as  pancake  on  the  griddle. 

We  say  it,  and  we  mean  —  laugh  who  may  ; 
And  that  which  may  to  others  seem  a  riddle. 

Is  plain  to  us  and  just  as  clear  as  day. 
Each  day  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars  sweep 
roiuid  — 

Alxjut  three  hundred  million  miles  will  do  it ; 
But  that  is  not  a  mystery  profound, 

Because  —  because  —  because  they're  practiced 
to  it. 
But  someone  asks;  What  is  beneath  the  earth? 

Why,  more  earth  piled  on  more,  and  still  on 
more. 
That's  answered  easily  —  'tis  hardly  worth 

The  while  to  answer  those  who  don't  explore 
And  search  out  for  themselves  the  simplest  things, 
As  easily  delined  as  Saturn's  rings. 
Old  Anson  thought  he  circumnavigated 

The  earth  (and  people  spoke  great  things  of 
him)  ; 
He  merely  sailed,  as,  in  dish  corrugated 

A  paltry  chip  floats  round  within  the  rim. 
He  could  not  sail  beyond  the  rim  of  ice. 

Which  keeps  us  as  in  Babylonian  walls; 
Had  he  once  reached  the  outer  precipice, 


'34 


He  and  his  crew  should  have  sustained  sonic 
falls 
Down  the  precipitous  and  japgcd  rocks 
Ontside  the  rim  of  earth,  where  Chaos  inocUs 
The  pnny  progen\-  of  earth :  and  then. 

Just  like  the  rehel  angels  thrust  from  Iieaveu. 
Who  fell  nine  days,  so  Anson  and  his  men, 

Unwept,  ur'ionoi -d,  and,  alas!   unshriven. 
Would,  t(x).  have  fallen,  with  an  awful  yell. 
'Way  down  to  Xowlicre  in  the  Unknowahle! 
And  tins  demonstrates  that  the  earth  is  flat, 

'  )r.  rather,  like  a  salad  dish  enormous ; 
Some  laugh  at  this,  hut  we  don't  care  for  that, 

.\o,  not  when,  armed  with  school-books,  block- 
heads storm  us. 
\Vc  go  on,  like  the  sun  upon  its  way. 
Which  speeds  three  hundred  million  miles  a  da\ , 
Or  near  six  thousand  miles  in  cverv  minute  — 
Who  wages  war  with  us  :  hall  find  but  little  in  it. 


>35 


I: 

f     11. , 


VHftn  iaiiiit;  (Hakro  tift  #tra)i 

When  Uaildy  takes  llic  strap,  you'd  ilimk 

The  lioiisi'  had  roiu  asleep. 
Atid  not  a  one  of  us  ilarc  wink. 

As  here  and  there  we  peep ; 
ICaclt  hreatli  is  hehl.  e.ich  heart  heats  last, 

li^ach  vows  no  more  to  serap: 
And  all  the  fun  of  life  seems  past 

When  Daddy  tako  ilie  strap. 

Oh,  when  he  takes  the  strap,  and  vows 

He'll  show  what  he  ean  do ; 
And  then  hegins  to  paee  the  liou-e 

And  range  it  ihrotigh  and  thronnh  : 
Then  I'rances  kicks  at  Jack  no  more 

And  Jack  grahs  no  one's  cap ; 
While   .Mamma  laughs  Ijehind  tin    door 

Whe'-  Daddy  takes  the  strap. 

And  lii.  ..  when   D.'idily  brings  it  tlnwii 

With  all  his  might  and  main, 
Von'd  really  think  his  awfnl  frown 

Was  causing  him  a  pain. 
He  thinks  we're  frightened  when  we  bawl. 

Hut  we  don't  care  a  rap  : 
We  just  pretend,  and  that  is  all. 

When  Daddy  takes  the  strap. 


J  Vi 


■36 


